


Beautiful Wolf

by Amalyr Roe (Mythic)



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-11
Updated: 2014-12-11
Packaged: 2018-03-01 02:21:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 22,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2755976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mythic/pseuds/Amalyr%20Roe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Join Amalyr Hawke on her journey of discovery, heart ache and finally love. Rated M for language, violence and what may happen in future chapters. I hope you enjoy my telling of the romance between Hawke and our favorite Tavinter Elf. Bioware owns all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Dalish**

  


"Amalyr, grab Bethany and your gear. You two are coming along," her father said. 

"Really?" Amalyr didn't wait another second. She dashed from the family room to the room she and Bethany shared, squealing with delight and telling her sister to hurry before he left without them. 

Malcolm chuckled; he had promised to take both girls with him when he took Bethany to see the Dalish and he always kept his word. 

The trip had taken a little more than half a day, a little longer than they were used to. Malcolm had instructed Bethany and Amalyr to stay by him until the sentries escorted them to Keeper Marethari and had been formally welcomed by the Dalish. 

Bethany, followed Malcolm's instructions, and stayed by her father, she was relieved to sit and relax her sore legs. Amalyr, still full of energy, wanted to scout around the edge of their small clearing. 

"Bethany I think we should take this time to work on your concentration. It seems to me you were having trouble staying focused when attempting your new healing spell." 

Bethany looked up. "But Dad!" she whined. Malcolm's cerulean blue eyes sparkled. "This is the perfect time to practice. You may one day find yourself in a situation where you or those around you need help only you can give." He held up his hand before she went into full pout, looked his daughter in the eye and admonished her, "Remember, magic is a gift you must use to always help others. As caretakers of magic, it is our duty to serve man and to carry through with this responsibility." 

Bethany still pouted, and then shot a pained look at her twin across the clearing. "How come Lyr doesn't have to?" 

"Your sister's talent lies elsewhere." He smiled and ruffled Bethany's thick hair; he glanced at Amalyr. "Your sister will go over her herb and potion making lessons while we work on your concentration." 

Malcolm hid a smile and shook his head. He never would have imagined when he left the Kirkwall Circle to come here with his love Leandra that he would have three wonderful children. Carver, their oldest, mad for the guard spent all of his time watching the local militia train and sparing with Amalyr trying to learn the same moves he had watched the guards performing. 

Then there were his girls. To look at them you never would have known they were twins. Both being fair-skinned; Bethany had shoulder length midnight black hair and his cerulean blue eyes while her older twin Amalyr had long deep auburn locks, big forest green eyes and an innocent smile. He was certain both would break many hearts when they got older.

Malcolm watched his little rogue rummage through her pack. She was quick, nimble and smart as a whip when it came to herbs and dagger play. He was just thankful only one of his children had shown mage talent. Bethany’s talent awakened last year when she accidentally set the kitchen table on fire. Malcolm being very good with combative elemental magic's had no trouble teaching his daughter control and how to hide her gifts. _Never would the Templars take her nor would she fall victim to some demon and become an abomination._

As Bethany progressed with her training, however, he noticed her magic leaned toward healing. Having only a talent for basic healing spells and potions, he had gone to Keeper Marethari, just outside of Lothering, and spent the better part of last summer negotiating training sessions with the nomadic forest elves. The Dalish having no love for the Chantry were not likely to turn Bethany or him over to them as apostates and he could see that Bethany received much-needed training in the more advanced healing arts.

Amalyr had thought being able to meet the Dalish would be something new and exciting. She didn't think she would have lessons to worry about today. She sighed and gave Bethy a wink and a small grin. She knew her sister wanted to explore as much as she did. Amalyr moved to her pack; she wanted to make sure she had remembered her notes on elfroot, deathroot, and deep mushrooms. Once she found them, she wedged herself between the roots of an old gnarled tree, making sure her prized daggers where secure and quickly began to lose herself in her studies.

Her father may spend a great deal of time making sure Bethany had full control of her magic so she would never give herself away to the Templars, but that didn't mean she could neglect her studies and for much the same reasons her father gave Bethy. 

**-oOo-**  


Not far from the small clearing, three young hunters were on their first scouting mission with Junar. Fenarel, Tamlen, and Safyre were granted their hunter status last week, each of them where excited to scout with an experienced hunter, getting the chance to practice their skills.

They had been scouting for about an hour when Junar motioned them to stop, and pointed to the clearing that was just visible from the tree line. The four hunters crouched, silently and studied the small group. Fenarel had never seen a shemlen before. It was an older human and two young human girls. 

He glanced at Tamlen and Safyre to gauge their reactions. Tamlen was scowling and Safyre seemed unconcerned, watching Junar for direction. Junar glared at the shemlens, stepped through the underbrush and motioned for the hunters to follow. 

"Hold shem!" Junar stated in a low but menacing voice, which caused Amalyr and Bethany to jump like startled deer as they watched four elves with drawn bows materialize out of the forest. "Your kind are not welcome here. Leave!" Junar and Tamlen continued to glare at the small group. 

Malcolm placed a comforting hand on Bethany's shoulder and sent a reassuring smile in Amalyr's direction. Turning to the elves he stated calmly: "Keeper Marethari is expecting us." 

Junar twitched, and then slowly lowered his bow. " _Adaran atish'an_ , travelers. Pass your weapons to us and we shall bring you before the Keeper." He gestured for Safyre to collect the weapons.

While his friend went about her task, Fenarel studied the shems with poorly disguised curiosity; he had never been this close to a human before. The dark-haired man was very tall and seemed confident with eyes that seemed to miss little. 

_A man to watch._

He then glanced at the two girls. He guessed they would be around his age, maybe a year or two younger, attractive and very delicate. The dark-haired girl stayed close to the older human, while trying to avoid staring at the elves. The one with hair the color of autumn leaves and soft curls seemed just as curious about the elves as Fenarel was with the shemlen.

Junar took the lead. Tamlen fell in beside him, placing the humans between Fenarel and Safyre.

Amalyr couldn't believe it. These where Dalish! Dalish! Masters of the bow and sword, unparalleled in stealth. They were nothing like the elves in Lothering. These are real Dalish! She couldn't help it; her eyes were wide as she stared at the four elves. Each wore light armor with coloring that blended in with their surroundings, and carried short bows. The older elf and the one next to him carried a long sword. The female elf carried a short sword and dagger while the other elf walking with her carried two long daggers. They moved with the grace and confidence of warriors, more so than the guards at home. They looked wild. They looked free.

Fenarel smiled and winked at the pretty green-eyed girl when he caught her trying to sneak a look at him. This caused her to blush prettily. His smile turned into a grin when she looked quickly away. 

She glanced back at her father. Malcolm winked at her but didn't seem concerned. Amalyr bit back a giggle, her father, even without his staff, was a powerful mage. She had no doubt he had everything under control.

Marethari held out her hands towards the family and nodded in greeting. " _Adaran atish'an_. You are welcome before the eyes of the Sabrae." 

"Greetings Keeper, you honor us," Malcolm returned with a small bow. "These are my girls, Amalyr and Bethany, who we've spoken of." 

Marethari held out her hands to both girls, studying each in turn. Her gaze paused on Amalyr. She tilted the child's eyes to meet her own. "I see much strength and kindness in you, child, it is something this world needs more of." To Bethany she smiled. "You have the potential to be a great healer and it will be my honor to help guide you in your journey."

With those cryptic remarks the Keeper looked back to the hunters. " _Ma serannas_. You may return to your duties." 

Fenarel, turning to follow Junar and his friends, looked over his shoulder to watch the red-haired human disappear into the Keeper's aravel. 

He sighed causing Tamlen and Safyre to shoot him a questioning glance, he smiled, shook his head, and turned his attention back to Master Junar. _Never thought a shem could be attractive._

**-oOo-**  


Over the last couple of years Amalyr her family paid regular visits to the Sabrae clan; she had even managed to convince Carver to make the trip. He was positive he could convince Master Ilan to part with one of his iron bark blades. Bethany was showing remarkable progress with her arcane studies and her father and Marethari could not have been happier. 

Amalyr only having a knack for herbs and potions quickly became bored. She had taken to walking along the Halla enclosure watching the beautiful animals while they grazed. Today she had decided to watch the hunters' practice their archery, wishing she had the nerve to ask to train along with them.

She had been watching Tamlen and Safyre bantering on who would make best shot. _They make a striking couple_. Only a few of the elves had been welcoming or at least tolerant of her family. Safyre was friendly enough, but she spent most of her time alternately flirting then teasing Tamlen. Amalyr had no intention of receiving one of Tamlen's glares. She was pretty sure he would have no problem putting an arrow into any of her family had the Keeper not welcomed them. Grimacing, Amalyr rolls her eyes. _We still get the stink eye from most of them. I'm more likely to be ignored or glared at if I asked._

" _Adaran atish'an_. You're Amalyr, right?" a soft male voice said, causing her to muffle a squeak as she quickly turned around. He was a little taller than most of the elves she had seen. Shoulder length hair almost white, startling pale blue eyes and it looked like he was trying to keep from laughing. 

"Y-yes," she stammered, still trying to get her heart out of her throat and back in her chest where it belonged. 

"I apologize. I did not mean to startle you. I am Fenarel." He gave her the same smile that usually got him out of trouble, the few times, he had managed to catch Safyre off guard. 

She smiled back at the elf, eyes full of mischief. "Uh-huh, you don't look like you're sorry… but...maybe you could make it up to me?" 

"And just how would I make up for making you jump out of your skin?" His blue eyes danced.

_Huh, I wonder if I can get his help; it's worth a try._ Amalyr gathered her nerves, looked at the elves who had taken to sparing and blurted, "Teach me to fight as you do. With daggers and a bow."

Fenarel leaned back against a tree, considering her request. She was about a hand span shorter than him with an athletic build. Her small form would be perfect for stealth training. _It would be interesting if I can teach a human to move as quietly as we do._

"I can do that." He watched her eyes widen. "I'll need to see what your current skill level is. Hmm, we'll go out some distance from the clan to work on your stealth and...observation skills." This time he did laugh. 

Amalyr liked his laugh, warm and friendly. She aimed a playful scowl at Fenarel, and then gave him the most startling smile he had ever seen. "Thank you." 

"Have you ever used a Bow?" he questioned. 

She shook her head causing hair to fall across one of her eyes. "No." 

Fenarel resisted the urge to reach out and brush the errant lock back. "Then I think that's where we should start." He caught sight of Safyre motioning for him, and started to move toward his friends he glanced back to Amalyr. "I'll meet you here tomorrow?"

Smiling all she did was nod as she watched Fenarel join his friends.


	2. New Friends

**New Friends**

Her brother was the only person she knew who owned a bow and when she had returned home she begged him relentlessly, and started again this morning not intending to give up until he gave in. _After all_ she _couldn’t show up for her first lesson without one, now could she?_ “Come on Carver, please!? You know I would take care of her, just like she was my own!”

“Maker, that’s what I’m afraid of.” Carver growled. Amalyr did her best to give him the look of wide eyed innocence that she and Bethany had perfected and worked so well on her father. “PPlleeaassee?!!” She begged sweetly as she draped herself over a chair.

Carver rolled his eyes reaching for his bow.

Amalyr gave older brother a big grin when he finally took Gracelyn from the wall and handed her to Amalyr. With a much put upon sigh he said, “Alriiight Lyr, take it, but you had better bring her back in one piece!”

Amalyr launched herself at her brother giving him a big hug. “Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! I promise you won’t regret it.” She beamed up at him.

Carver a towering copy of their father set her down and tousled her hair. “Yah, yah.”

She chuckled. “You say that now, but wait until I have you doing my chores.” She stuck her tongue at him, ducked out the house in search of Bethany, before he could change his mind.

**-oOo-**

Bethany and Amalyr entered the Dalish camp midmorning. Bethany had caught her chewing on her nails, again, she reached out entwined her fingers with her sister and gave a reassuring squeeze. “There is nothing to be nervous about, you’re amazing with those things at your hip. I don’t think you will have as much trouble with archery as you think you will.” Bethany grinned wickedly at her twin. “Why I’ve seen you take Carver down with no effort. I’ll never forget the look he gave you, after he landed face first in the mud! I thought you were done for.” That got her a weak chuckle from her twin. “I’ve never run so fast in my life.” Bethany smiled encouragingly. “You’ll do fine Lyr.”

“I know Bethy; it’s just…no you’re right. I can do this.” She squared her shoulders, feeling a little better, released Bethany’s hand and headed to the archery range.

She could see Fenarel, Tamlen and Safyre chatting by one of the targets, so with a little trepidation she waived to Fenarel gaining his attention. Fenarel smiled in greeting, Tamlen glowered at her making a small hidden, _or so he thought,_ motion signaling an end to their conversation.

“You should go back to where you came from _shem_!” Tamlen growled as she came within hearing. Amalyr narrowed her eyes at his tone. _No! I don’t want Fenarel to change his mind._ She took a deep breath controlling her temper and exhaled slowly.

Safyre gave a startled glance to her companion. “Tamlen is this how you show Dalish hospitality.”

“ _Shemlen_ are not so deserving of such honor _emma lath_.” Safyre rolled her eyes uncurling from her position near Tamlen, smiling at Amalyr “ _Adaran atish’an._ Don’t mind him; he’s only sour because I won his _Dar’Misu_. _”_ She gave him a playful push.

“Not now!” Safyre not the least bit contrite leaned over to whisper in his ear. Tamlen flushed, his glare softening as he looked down at Safyre, then he turned and left without another word.

Fenarel stifled a laugh at his friend’s discomfort.

Safyre studied Amalyr, she had just started to fidget uncomfortably when the elf, smiled and gestured toward her brother’s bow. “This will never do, that is much too big for you. Fenarel go to my _aravel_ and tell Ashalle I need my old _bor’assan_.” He winked at Amalyr, and left on his errand.

Safyre placed a friendly hand on Amalyr’s shoulder and guided the bewildered human to a nearby stump, once she was seated Safyre reached into a small pouch on her hip removing a small leather thong with beautiful white beads, holding the item out to Amalyr as walked round behind her. “Now that the boys are out of the way, let’s do something with that gorgeous hair of yours.” Bemused Amalyr accepted the hair tie. Hearing Safyre’s chuckle, she flushed realizing the elf must have seen her expression.

“Not to worry this just gives me an excuse to learn a little about you and your family.” Amalyr looked over her shoulder and giving a small hesitant smile then started to relax when she felt the elf women’s fingers running through her long tresses as she began to plait her hair. It did not take long before both young women were chatting amiably as they got to know one another.

**-oOo-**

Training began in earnest when Fenarel returned a few moments later with the requested bow. Safyre handed her old bow to Amalyr telling her Master Ilan was working on a new bow for her and she would rather see this one put to good use instead of gather dust.

“Blast it!!!” Amalyr swore, clearly frustrated. _This is the third time I’ve been hit by that blasted string;_ _I just knew I would be black and blue by the end of the day_ , her bracer protected her forearm, but did nothing for her elbow. She looked over her shoulder at Safyre, then turned her attention to Fenarel as he approached her with amusement in his blue eyes.

“Let me help you, with your stance.” He smiled, giving her a questioning glance.

She nodded afraid to speak. When he moved up close behind her, she became slightly distracted and a little less frustrated, then she felt him touch her and the butterflies in her stomach began to dance.

“You want to hold your _bor’assan_ like so.” He proceeded to demonstrate by placing a hand firmly over hers holding the bow steady, sliding his other along her forearm, rotating her elbow out of the strings path.

“You want to stand like so.” He murmured in her ear as he positioned her against him, using his foot Fenarel moved hers so they were shoulder with apart. He then wrapped his arm around her placing her other hand on the string.

Continuing to mummer in her ear, “think of the _bor’assan_ as an extension of you, inhale, draw the string back,” he pulled her arm back placing tension on the string.

“Sight along the arrow just a little higher than your intended target.” He moved her bow arm up fractionally.

“Exhale when releasing. You want the arrow to hit its mark before you lower the _bor’assan_. This will help prevent the arrow from moving off target.” He released her string arm moving his hand to settle lightly on her hip. She could feel her heart beat quicken, then she flushed when she felt his breath on her ear as he whispered, “Now release.” Amalyr released the string, watched the arrow fly. She was rewarded with a solid, _thunk_ , as the arrow hit the intended target, only slightly off the mark. Amalyr looked over her shoulder and beamed her success. Fenarel gave her a gentle squeeze then released her, reluctantly; he stepped back, clearing his throat. “Now, again.” Fenarel gestured at the target, his eyes were darker than usual.

 

Fenarel was deep in thought, admiring Amalyr’s profile, when a light voice and an accompanying jab in the ribs sharply drew his attention back to the here and now.

“You really should just go for it, I mean _look_ at her, anyone with eyes can see she likes you too.”

In all honesty he had forgotten Safyre was there, sheepishly he looked over at his friend, _I have to admit I’m attracted to the petite human._ Fenarel had not realized just how transparent he had been. “I don’t think I should pursue her.” He whispered uncomfortably not wanting to be overheard. “And I think Tamlen would agree, don’t you?” He knew what Tamlen’s argument would be: _she’s not even_ _elvenan._

Safyre blew sable hair out of her silver eyes in exasperation “Does it matter what, Tamlen thinks or anyone else for that matter? “ _If_ you could get past the fact that she’s human, I think it would do you both some good.” He paused considering his rationale and what his friend was telling him. Although the idea did have its appeal, Fenarel shook his head, _I really do not think Amalyr would consider me a potential…what?_ His body still tingled where he had come in contact with the girl.

Safyre suddenly sprouted a mischievous grin. “I’ve got an idea.” Not waiting for a response she danced over to where the human was beginning to notch another arrow.

Amalyr, looked over at Fenarel while she listened to her enthusiastic new friend, tell her they were heading to the hot springs and to grab her sister if she wanted to come along. Smiling shyly Amalyr nodded her assent then headed off to retrieve Bethany.

**-oOo-**

Amalyr stepped into the Keeper’s _aravel_ , trying to be as quiet as possible, waiting for Bethany to finish what looked like a complex incantation. _Their father had warned them repeatedly that any distraction could be dangerous not only to spell caster, but to everyone around the mage as well._

Nodding to Keeper Marethari, Amalyr looked around curiously she had only been inside the _aravel_ few times. The room was dim lit with only a few tallow candles, tapestries, dried herbs lined the walls and various arcane paraphernalia covered every available space. In a doorway toward the back of the room, almost unnoticed, a pale narrow face, framed by short black hair was intently watching Bethany while mumbling something to herself, with quick bird like movements the strange elf disappeared into the adjoining room when realizing she had become the focal point of Amalyr’s attention. Amalyr turned back in time to see Bethany slump forward in exhaustion. Sluggishly, her sister pushed herself back into a sitting position struggling to bring her vision back into focus then returning her attention back to the Keeper.

Marethari nodded her approval, she glanced over at Amalyr then spoke to Bethany “I think it is time to call it a day, child. Go. Rest. We shall start fresh on your next visit.” With that the Keeper excused herself and went into to same room the strange elf had disappeared into, just moments before.

Amalyr knowing her sister would need to drink and eat something after expending so much energy, rummaged in her pack removing her flask and the honey cakes she had managed to filch when her mother’s back was turned. She coaxed her twin to drink, then pressed one of the honey cakes into Bethany’s hands. Once she was sure her twin would eat without needing further coaxing, she went over the day’s events. Bethany’s eyes grew round and started to sparkle at Fenarel’s idea of help _._ When Amalyr asked her to join her and the two elves at the hot springs her sister’slips widened in a delicious grin.

“Oh, this will be fun.” Bethany cooed, following her sister out of the _aravel_ toward the Halla pen and their rendezvous.

As they walked Bethany studied her twin. _The elf would be a fool to pass her by,_ _Amalyr is gorgeous._ Thick auburn hair with soft curls framing a heart shaped face, big green eyes, a smattering of freckles across her pert nose, lush red lips and cheeks that dimpled when she laughed. Bethany knew several fellows at home who wanted to get to know her better. Amalyr, on the other hand, never noticed, nor had any idea that she was appealing to others, that her twin preferred blending in with the shadows to remain unseen, mystified her.

 _Why? I just don’t understand._ Bethany, however, was well aware of her looks: she was more outgoing and relaxed in the presence of male company, with her thick black hair, cerulean blue eyes and porcelain skin, she tended attract suitors like flies to honey. Seeing the attraction Amalyr held for this elf, Fenarel. Bethany had every intention of breaking down her twins self-imposed walls if it meant tying the two together.

 _Although judging by the way he keeps looking at her and vice versa, I don’t think that would be a problem._ She started smiling like the fox that had gotten into the hen house.

 

Arriving at the hot spring both elves quickly divested themselves of everything but their small cloths and dived into the inviting pool of warmth. Bethany, not to be left behind swiftly followed the two elves. When she realized Amalyr had not entered the pool yet, she turned to see her twin sucking on her bottom lip, flushing a faint shade of pink, and still fully clothed.

Bethany covered the beginnings of a smile with the tips of her fingers, she followed her twins gaze to the male elf resting behind her smiling at her sister. Bethany decided Amalyr needed a delicate push, she motioned for Fenarel to turn his back to her sister. Once that was accomplished she waded out of the pool, deciding to assist Amalyr out of her leather armor and into the warm water.

Fenarel rested his chin on his crossed arms listening for the sound of Bethany and Amalyr entering the water. When he was certain both girls had been in the water long enough to be comfortable he turned back around meeting three pairs of eyes. One set of silver, one set of cerulean blue both glinting with mischief and one set of green eyes trying, unsuccessfully, to feign nonchalance. Chuckling he leaned back to relax only to have Safyre attack him with water.

 

Feeling more at ease Amalyr gave her sister a wicked grin, and motioned her head toward Fenarel who was trying to defend himself from his elven friend. Bethany did not need any other instruction and returned the wicked grin. Both girls disappeared under the water and the unsuspecting elf went under. Fenarel came up spluttering, too the howl of three girls laughing hysterically, joining in the laughter Fenarel lunged after Amalyr, who squealed in delight and tried to avoid capture. It didn’t take long before it was an all-out water fight that soon had everyone laughing and playing.

 

 


	3. Not All Fun and Games

**Not all fun and games**

Running through uneven terrain had left a stich in her side, her thighs ached, and she was tired, what she needed was to find a place to hide and fast. Looking around she stopped momentarily by a small stream; breathing heavily she leaned over, placing her hands on her legs, contemplating her next move. Reaching down she removed her boots, and stepped into the water.  _Anything with deep concealing shadows, an overhang maybe. S_ earching both sides she waded upstream.

_Perfect, just what I need._  Hoping the soft ground cover would conceal her tracks, she stepped onto the moss covered bank, donning her boots. She laid a false trail away from her desired hiding place, then circled back around to hide in the branches of an over grown pine. Amalyr, settling in to wait, listened for sounds of pursuit.

Training had turned into a series of game like activities all designed to strengthen and build different skills. Last week had been hunting and tracking various animals, played by Fenarel and Safyre. This week was another game of hunt and this time Amalyr was the prey. Her goal was to evade capture until the sun had passed its zenith.

**-oOo-**

Fenarel knelt down to examine the ground and nearby brush for signs of passage. Gaining Safyre's attention he points out the slight impression of a heel leading into the stream. Placing a finger to his lips he then points indicating his intention to head upstream. Safyre nodded assent following his lead. He then turned his attention back to the stream.

Both elves had been searching for signs of disturbance along the bank, squirrel tracks, halla tracks, even wild hare, but no sign of Amalyr. Pursing her lips, Safyre whistles off a series of sparrow like calls bringing Fenarel to her side, when a slight scuff in the moss caught her attention. She outlined her plan to draw Amalyr out. Fenarel gave her a lop-sided grin then disappeared into the forest brush.

**-oOo-**

Amalyr watched from beneath the pine bough as Safyre crossed over from the far bank, her eyes intently studying the trail Amalyr had laid earlier, the elf paused canting her head as she listened for Amalyr to make some sound that would reveal her position. The dainty human waited with her breath held until the elf moved on in search. Amalyr counted a few heartbeats before slipping silently from the cover of her pine. She scanned the far side of the stream and the surrounding forest before melting into the shadows to follow Safyre.

Amalyr was becoming increasingly uneasy as she continued to remain unnoticed by her friend.  _This feels too much like a trap._ Her green eyes narrowed in suspicion.  _Where is Fenarel?_

She paused in her pursuit and shimmied up a nearby tree to get a better view of her surroundings. Keeping Safyre in sight she nervously scanned the area in hopes of catching sight of the missing elf.

_The way he pops out of nowhere is positively uncanny._  Amalyr feeling a pleasant shiver travel up her spine, quickly glanced to the trees behind her, half hoping and half dreading he would be there.  _Maker! Lyr, keep it together, I don't want to start jumping at shadows._ Chuckling under her breath, "I won't let him catch me off guard like that again, such an undignified squawk…." Taking a moment to think of the handsome elf, she sucked on her bottom lip.  _Right keep focused_ … _Continue to follow Safyre, or look for Fenarel?_ She looked after her friend.  _Following her would be plain folly. I know it has to be a trap._   _If she's in sight, he has to be somewhere nearby waiting for me to make a mistake._

After a few indecisive moments, Amalyr swung down from her perch, landing with a faint thud. She glanced around once more she then headed cautiously back the way she had come, leaving Safyre heading in the other direction.

_If I can circle back unseen, maybe I can pick up where his trail splits off. I better make this quick it won't take long before they catch on to my ruse._

Amalyr had returned to the pine and begun searching.  _I thought it would be harder to find their tracks…then again, they are supposed to be hunting me, not the other way around._  Puzzled she stared down at six sets of tracks. _These are new_.  _No one else is supposed to be out this way._  She took a closer look at the new tracks. _These are much deeper than mine. Who ever made these must be big and wearing heavy armor._

Amalyr furrowed her brows, slightly disturbed.  _Fenarel and Safyre's tracks head north, the new ones are headed that way._ She looked at the sun gauging the time, then back at her friend's tracks.  _East it is._

**-oOo-**

Amalyr found that dried leaves, hard packed earth make following these harder, but not impossible _. At least whoever made these didn't bother to hide their trail._  Amalyr grimaced, scanning the narrow path where the tracks she had been following met up with a smaller set of prints coming from the direction of Lothering. She ran her fingers through the scattered leaves picking up a scrap of cloth.  _This was a scuffle._ The coarse fabric had been torn clean as a body had been thrown to the ground, deep gouges showed where the person dug into the ground trying to prevent being dragged off.  _Whatever it is they are up to, they don't want to be seen._

Amalyr continued to follow the furrowed dirt where the new person was being dragged. She was now close enough to hear voices off in the distance, but still too far off to make sence of what was being said.  _Judging by the tone, I wouldn't want to be on the receiving end._

With an increasing sense of foreboding Amalyr picked up her pace. Once she neared the ravine she crouched, then began to crawl, attempting to get close enough to the edge to peer over without being seen.

Amalyr froze at the sight before her, blood freezing in her veins.

_NO!_ Templars had her father.

Malcolm's arms were being pulled back by one, a knee in the small of his back held him in a kneeling position. A second templar had a big hand over her father's nose pushing his face back and forcing a small bottle between his lips. Malcolm sputtered; unable to breath he involuntarily swallowed the contents of the small vial.

All Amalyr could feel was fear and fury at the site of her father being held helpless.  _They had to have drained his mana. There is no other way they could have captured him. Thank the Maker Bethanys with the Keeper. I wish Carver was here. No telling if Safyre and Fenarel will find me in time to be of help…I can't wait for help; I've got to help father NOW!_ Scowling she got to her feet ready to do whatever was necessary to rescue her father, when a pair of gauntleted hands grabbed her arms roughly from behind; she clinched her jaw and struggled uselessly as the Templar pushed her through the underbrush toward his waiting comrades and her father. Amalyr closed her eyes disgusted with herself; she had been so focused on the seen in front of her she had failed to notice the missing Templar.  _How could I be so stupid!_

The big templar standing before Malcolm looked up as a struggling Amalyr was all but carried down to the group. This close Amalyr had to shut her eyes against the pain she saw in her father's eyes. He looked terrible. The right eye swollen shut, skin cut around the socket and the whole side of his face slowly darkening to purple

Amalyr forced herself to meet the gaze of black beady eyes behind templar plate. "Let him go, or by the Maker I will  **kill**  you!" She snarled in thinly controlled rage and tried to lunge at him. The Templar holding her laughed nastily as the big man turned his attention back to her father.

"This is what happens to up-start mages who leave the circle." He sneered pulling the two handed broadsword from over his shoulder and ran the length through her father's body brutally twisting the blade on its way back out. The Templar holding Malcolm released his arm's letting him fall face first into the dirt, blood slowly pooling on the ground; turning the earth to red mud.

**FATHER! NO!**

Pulling off his helmet the templar turned to face a struggling Amalyr, his blade still dripping with her father's blood. He stared down at her with contempt for a long moment before he finally spoke. "You have been harboring a known apostate," He wiped the blood from his blade returning it to its scabbard, "one who has been running for years. Who else are you hiding? How many?" Amalyr looked away, refusing to answer.

The big man with mouse brown hair and a scar running from brow to chin across a pock covered face grabbed a fistful of hair and yanked her head back to meet his eyes. "I don't  _like_  apostate sympathizers, you're just as bad as that  _filth_  we were sent to hunt. You will answer my questions little girl." Foul breath washing over her.

Refusing to show fear she spit up into the pock marked face. The templar jerked back in disgust, wiped the spittle from his face, and then backhanded Amalyr hard with his gauntleted fist.

Head ringing from the blow she ran her tongue over her bottom lip tasting the coppery tang of blood.  _Can't… pass… out._ She was having difficulty fighting against the gathering darkness. Her eyes snapped open when he grabbed her by the hair again. "We're going to teach you what happens to those who harbor apostates, wench." The last templar gathering close. "And then you will tell me exactly what I want to know. Have I made myself perfectly clear?" His cruel mouth stretched in a thin unpleasant line.

_You're not getting my sister!_  Not knowing what the Templar had planned, Amalyr did the only thing she could think of to keep her sister safe.  _This is going to get me killed._ Using the Templar holding her for leverage she kicked out as hard as she could, not into the big man's groin as expected but into his knee with a satisfying crunch. The big man let go of her with a pain filled screech, face going red. Cold steel fingers dug into the flesh of her arms as the pock faced Templar wrapped his gauntleted hands around her neck slowly choking her.

Amalyr struggled vainly… _Ca…Can't…Bre…ath… Have to….get away…_  She was having trouble focusing. Startled, Pock Face let go of her as an arrow blossomed into the neck of her captor, veiling her vision in red mist. Finally free Amalyr dropped, spinning on her heel and sweeping the big templar's feet out from under him, not giving Pock Face a chance to react, she leaped to his chest driving the wind from his body and sheathing her blades in his neck severing the artery.

Amalyr jumped to her feet searching for another target. Her gaze fell to the last templar, an arrow jutting from the slit in his helmet. Startled, Amalyr lifted her blades in a defensive gesture at the sound of approach; relief flooded her as the two elves came into view, bows still at the ready.

Shivering with shock Amalyr looked around, eyes resting on her father's prone form. Her eyes filling with unshed tears, her blades dropped from nerveless fingers; falling to her knees in grief, her trembling hands reached out and turned his body over. Malcolm's eyes fluttered open, a weak, wet cough escaped him.

Amalyr gasped. " _Father_!" She looked down at his ruined midsection the tears began spilling from her eyes. She placed her hands on his wounds trying to stop the bleeding.  _He's still alive!_

"We'll get Bethy, she can heal this." She looked hopefully up at Safyre and Fenarel. "She's with Marethari; I can get her and be back before you know it."

"No Lyr." He rasped weakly.

"She can fix this, I know she can!" Amalyr cried in panic.

"They… used…magebane…won't last…too weak." Came the faint reply, he cupped Amalyr's face. "My brave, sweet …daughter, weep for me not, I go to the Maker's side." Amalyr shook her head denying what he was telling her.  _No no no no!_

Helpless the elves watched. Their eyes clouded with concern for the small woman as the father's life seeped through his daughter's fingers.

"There has to be something, you can't die!" She wailed.

Eyes wet, Malcolm pulled his distraught daughter to his chest. "Shhh…sh…shhh…Sweet ling. I need you to do something for me." He coughed _._

"Anything." Came the tear strained, muffled voice.

"Be strong… Tell Carver it falls to him now," His cough was long and rattling. "Protect our family." He swallowed, wetting his lips; Malcolm continued voice barely above a whisper and interrupted by wheezing. "Keep Bethany safe, my brave girl….I…love you all _…._ so much!" He wet his lips again "So much. Tell your mother." Malcolm smiled weakly swallowing. "Tell her…tell her…I want her…to have a…long happy…life with…you…kids…and I'll be waiting for….her when it's her…time."

Amalyr looked into the fading light of her father's cerulean eyes, voice thick with emotion, "I will father… I promise."

"Good…girl…so proud…of you." Malcolm squeezed his daughter's hand, and smiled as he released his last breath.

**-oOo-**

Fenarel knelt down gathered the limp girl to his chest, meeting Safyre's silver gaze he mouthed  _"Keeper Marethari"_ his glance darted to the Templar bodies " _Junar."_

Safyre nodded, her normally cheerful face set in a grim cast, heart going out to her morning friend; she squeezed Amalyr's shoulder then raced off to the Keeper.

Taking comfort in the strong embrace, Amalyr dissolved into heart wrenching sobs; Fenarel's arms tightened pulling her close. Tears in his own eyes, he began murmuring soothingly until her crying eased.

Fenarel gently ran his fingers along Amalyr's jaw tilting her chin up, he winced in sympathy as he studied the darkening bruise on her cheek, his eyes resting on the split of her swollen lips.

She pulled slightly away letting her gaze shifted to the bodies of the fallen templars settling on Pock Face. "He killed my father. He would have killed Bethy. He was going to k..kill me." she whispered, "and I…I killed him…" She looked at her blood covered hands still curled against Fenarel's chest, then back to the lifeless bodies. "I've….Oh Maker…I've never….there all dead….I'm going to be sick…." The realization struck her; she had taken a life, Amalyr pushed away in favor of the closest bush.

Long moments passed before finally gaining her control. She wiped her mouth with the back of a hand and looked around uncertainly. Fenarel gently squeezed her shoulder and held out his water skin. She looked up at him through wet eyes, and with a small grateful sound she rinsed the dreadful taste from her mouth and the blood from her hands. Returning his flask, Amalyr leaned unsteadily against the tall elf. She sighed a little when an encircling arm pulled her in close and Fenarel rested his chin on the top of her head.

**-oOo-**

For Amalyr, everything was in a gray fog when Keeper Marethari arrived. Quickly taking charge, the Keeper directed Junar and the young hunters to dispose of the Templar bodies and to return Malcolm's to his family in Lothering. Amalyr blinked up dully at the elf woman, she could hear her tell Fenarel that she would take care of her injuries. The Keeper placed a hand on her cheeck and one above her heart. Amalyr felt a warm tingling sensation spread through her as Marethari's hands begun to glow blue. Amalyr slumped to the ground,

"The child is still in shock _,_ only time can heal some wounds. _"_ She looked down at Amalyr. "I have put her into a small sleep, the spell will not keep long. When she wakes take her home  _Da'len_."

" _Ma serannas_ Keeper." Fenarel bowed his head, gathered the sleeping girl in his arms. He caught sight of Safyre, Tamlen following behind her.

* * *


	4. What Change Brings

**What Change brings**

Amalyr woke with a start; the last thing she remembered was Keeper Marethari placing her hands on her, then nothing just soothing warmth. Still feeling the after effects of the sleep spell, Amalyr sat up looking around in confusion at the dark stained wood of an unfamiliar  _aravel._ She blushed when she realized that she was no longer covered in blood, her armor and clothing had been cleaned and neatly stacked in the corner. Steady breathing drew her attention to the person sleeping beside her.

Reaching out tentatively. "Bethy, Bethy wake up."

Rubbing her eyes with the back of her hand Bethany slowly sat up.

"Lyr?" Bethany's voice was taking on a shrill note. "Lyr? What happened? There was so much blood! You were _covered_  in it!"

The game with Fenarel and Safyre, tracking the Templars, her father. _Oh Maker, father!_  Everything came rushing back with painful clarity.

Bursting into tears Amalyr flung her arms around her sister. Bethany hugged her sister back trying to comfort her, when the crying finally subsided she pulled back a little, brow wrinkling in concern. "Lyr,  _tell_  me what happened."

Avoiding her sister's gaze Amalyr focused on the dividing curtain, shuddering at the memories; she pulled her knees to her chin and began to relate the events, leaving out the worst details.

By the time she had finished Bethany was quietly weeping. "I can't believe he's gone, fathers gone." Eyes going wide. "How are we going to tell mother, this will tear her apart."

Amalyr winced.  _What do I tell mother? I failed? I wasn't fast enough and let father die?_ "I don't know." Not knowing what else to do Amalyr began studying the room they were in.  _We're not in the Keeper's aravel._

Glancing down at the oversized tunic she was wearing, she looked at her sister. "Bethy?" Curiosity getting the best of her. "What happened?" Gesturing at the clothing and then room. "Where are we?"

"Oh where to start." Bethany attempted a smile for her sister.

"Safyre came tearing into camp looking for Junar and the Keeper. Given the state she was in when she had arrived, Tamlen refused to let her leave without him and practically shouted at her that he would not let her return without him. A couple hours after the elves left; Fenarel returned carrying you. We had to use one of his tunics when me and Safyre cleaned you up. He wouldn't let anyone else near you." She arched an eye brow. "We're in his _aravel._ "

The curtain parted revealing the elf in question, he spared a glance for Bethany his gaze finally settling on Amalyr. "I've brought you some tea." moving into the room he handed each steaming cup. "I will take you home when you are ready."

"Fen..." Amalyr sucked on her bottom lip and reached for his wrist. "Fenarel?" The tall elf sat gingerly on the edge of the bed, waiting for her to continue. "Thank you." Turning a faint shade of pink she looked around at the room and the clothing. "For everything." She whispered.

Reaching out Fenarel gently tucked an errant lock behind Amalyr's ear, his fingers lightly following the curve of her jaw, studying her eyes intently.

"No need  _emma vhenan."_ He leaned forward softly brushing his lips against hers.

Earlier events momentarily forgotten she smiled shyly up at Fenarel. "What does that phrase mean?"

The question brought out his charming half-smile. "One day I will tell you."

He then released her and went back into the outer room.

Bethany was smothering a real smile at the surprised expression on her twin's face.

**-oOo-**

_He had heard the pounding at the door, then strange voices, but assumed that it was a late night visitor for his father, until he heard the anguish in his mother's voice. Carver had rushed from his room to find his mother collapsing to her knees by the body of his father, a sight that would haunt his memories for a long time to come. The elves had been less than informative when he had tried to find out what had happed, he had been told he would have to wait for his sister to return for they had not been present. Then they had left without another word_.

_He had spent the better part of this morning with his mother preparing last rites for his father. The Templars questioned him. How his father was killed; why the Dalish where the ones who had brought the body back; was he sure it wasn't the savages who had killed him; it went on and on. When it seemed the Templars were finally satisfied with his answers they had Bryant and a few of the other Templar initiates help bring his father's remains to the Chantry, each expressing their sorrow at the loss of such a fine member of the community, and they would do whatever they could to make this time easier to bear._

Carver had been listening to the staccato of his mother's foot falls, for what seemed like ages, worrying about where his sisters where, why they had not returned yet, and what could have happened to her baby girls. He continued drumming his fingers as he listened to his mother pace back and forth.

 _They have to know what has happened. They spend all of their time with those elves. Those elves brought father back said Amalyr would know what happened._  Working himself into a fine fit, Carver slammed his fist into the table. Bringing his mother's pacing to a startled halt.

"They should be back by now!" Carver stormed from the room and out the door.

"Carver?  _Carver_  where are you going?" Leandra's panic stricken voice followed him.

"Out." He winced at the hurt look that clouded her eyes and softened his tone. "I'm going to get Bethany and Amalyr."

"Oh! Bring them home safe!" She pleaded.

Carver turned from his mother, heading toward the Dalish camp.

Carver, who always had a quick temper, was slow to cool once angered and his thoughts had been running in circles last night when the Dalish had brought back his father. Cresting the hill just outside Lothering; he was just managing to get his temper in check at the sight of his sisters and their friends.

He watched the group as he approached; Amalyr was holding Fenarel's hand absently playing with his fingers. All four broke into barely heard laughter from something the sable headed elf had said.

 _Fathers dead and they're laughing; they're playing around with those, those knife ears!_  His eyes narrowing and brows gathering like storm.

**-oOo-**

"Amalyr!"Carver swooped down on the group, grabbing her by the arm, to Bethany he growled. "Home! Now!" Sending her home ahead of them.

Fenarel stiffened at the sudden fright on Amalyr's face as she was dragged forcefully away. A hand on his shoulder stayed him when he would have stepped between the two siblings.

He looked down into friend's unusually serious face. "Have you not shown her what she needs to do if she truly does not wish to be held? This is not the time to be protective; she will need to decide if she will let him command her and do as he says or if she will stand on her own."

Safyre released him once she was sure she made her point. Both turned back to the scene before them seeing which Amalyr would choose.

**-oOo-**

Being caught and held captive by the ironhanded Templar flashed through Amalyr's mind when Carver's massive hand clamped around her arm and yanked her after him.

First she felt fear, then anger. "Carver! Let go!" She pulled, dropping her weight, using momentum to break her brother's hold, causing him to turn back to her. His eyes meeting her eyes glare for glare.

Amalyr's eyes went wide as Carver let lose his fear, anger and frustration in a torrent of accusations and contempt.

"Damn it Lyr! FATHERS DEAD! Do you have any idea what you put mother through, what you put me through? Do you  _even_  care that he's gone? Were you even there? If you were did you just let him die? Where…"

 _ **CRACK**_.

 _She hit me._  Carver shocked out of his anger watching his sister running towards Lothering, quickly passing Bethany. Still feeling the sting of where Amalyr's fist had come into contact with his face Carver rubbed his jaw.

 _I can't believe she hit me!_ Movement out of the corner of his eye caused him to look back at the two elves he had dismissed as being there.

Fenarel sporting a lop-sided grin, reached to help Carver back up. His grin disappearing as he looked to see Amalyr's retreating form. Looking to Carver. "You are a  _fool!_ " Quicker than thought, Carver found the point of a _Dar'Misu_  at his throat. Before he could launch himself at the elf. " _Ar'din nuvenin na'din!"_

The realization that this blonde elf could easily kill him helped cool his temper somewhat if not his humiliation at being laid out by his little sister.

Steel in his eyes Fenarel continued in a smooth voice as if having a pleasant afternoon conversation. "You have no idea what she has just gone through. She needs her  _older_  brother now, not some hot headed clod."

Safyre moved Fenarel's blade from Carver's neck. "Go talk with her, she will tell you what you need to know." Both elves left trailing after his sisters.

Carver cleared his throat rubbing his neck where the blade had been, and followed.

**-oOo-**

The weeks following Malcolm's death found the Hawke children very busy trying to regain some normalcy of their lives. Carver got past his resentment of his sister decking him asked her to join him rabbit hunting. On their way home he finally asked about the events of their father's death. Amalyr told him everything, leaving nothing out. He was shocked at what happened, but proud at how his little sister had handled herself, and glad that she had not died that day as well.

Following the heart to heart, Carver spent a lot more time hunting with Amalyr becoming closer to his sister then he had been; When the twins had decided it was time to continue their training he had taken to traveling with his sisters to the Dalish camp. Carver even joined in the weapons training with Amalyr. The long hours training taught the two how to create a beautifully deadly dance with his broad sword and her two blades and fight as a cohesive unit never letting the others back go unguarded.

Rumors started sprouting about vile beast appearing in the wilds. Most of the towns' folk put the rumors to be nothing more than ale addled wits spouting superstitious nonsense. Carver had gone to Danes Refuge to pick up spirits when he overheard the Bann's soldiers talking about possible mobilization down south past the Drakon River if the infestation continued to increase. After that, he began spending more time at tavern paying more attention to the rumors, and less time with Amalyr and her Dalish friends.

**-oOo-**

It was spring again; Amalyr was impatient for the return of the Dalish to this part of Ferelden. She had wanted to go hunting with Carver, but he had other plans with Peaches, even Bethany was busy with would-be suitors. So she had decided to go hunting on her own.  _Rabbit sounds like the perfect distraction._

The thick foliage and undergrowth had made tracking much easier than the hard baked dirt of full summer. "Oh, that's it, my friend," Amalyr whispered to the rabbit just starting to lose its winter coat. She sighted down the length of her arrow, as she had been taught, took a deep breath; she caught movement out of the corner of her eye as she prepared to release her shot. Amalyr removed the tension from her bow and slung it over her shoulder quickly disappearing into the underbrush, without as much as a rustle of a leaf.

 _I learned my lesson the hard way. I will not be caught unaware again._ Amalyr frowned.

 _Last time someone strange came through this part of the forest spelt big trouble for me and mine._ Following silently she studied the slim build of a person moving steadily ahead of her _._

 _Damn that cloak, I can't tell who it is without getting closer and giving myself away. I'm going to have to wait for a better opportunity._  She followed quietly for some time before the stranger decided to take a rest near the river. _There is something familiar about the stranger's movements.._. _his movements_. She suddenly realized _._ She continued to watch from the brush trying to determine if this person would be a possible threat.

He knelt by the river bank, she could see him cup his hand and drink from the river, he then stood removing the cloak and laying it on a nearby log revealing shoulder length almost white hair, pointed ears and slim build of the Dalish hunter.

 _Fenarel. It's Fenarel! Oh, this is perfect._ Amalyr moved to silently remove her armor, bow and anything that could inadvertently give away her position before she was ready. She set the items under the boughs of the overgrown pine she had hidden in so long ago. Melting back into the shadows.  _I may never have another chance to catch him unaware._

Looking around she located a stick about the length of her boot dagger. With a sly-fox smile, Amalyr ghosted up behind Fenarel, placing the stick across his throat, and purring into his ear. "Surrender ser elf, for I have you now."

Without warning Fenarel gripped her wrist, quickly disarming her of her twig. Pulling, he spun her around pinning her back to him. She could feel his breath tickle her ear. "And if I refuse,  _emma vhenan_?" His warm voice rumbled back.

Feigning surrender, she leaned into the tall elf's lean frame. "You still haven't told me what that means."

Amaryl felt Fenarel relax and start to move backward. Choosing that moment to strike, she seized his forearm using her momentum and his weight to her advantage. She dropped using the same method she had used with the pock-faced Templar, pivoting and sweeping Fenarel's feet out from under him.

Amalyr straddled him placing the recovered twig back to his neck. Grinning cheekily. "I say again ser elf, surrender."

"Never give a larger opponent a chance." Twinkle in his eye, Fenarel bucked upward grabbing the arm that held the twig, abruptly pinning her below him. "Lest you give him the upper hand."

She bit the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing. "Depends on the opponent. I might be willing to give him the upper hand."  _Oh dear maker, I did not mean that the way it sounded._

"Woman! By the creators do not tempt me." He growled playfully, he had yet to release his hold and allow her to her feet.

The proximity of Fenarel, was intoxicating and she was finding it difficult to think with him pressing so closely against her. The way he was looking at her caused a fire to kindle in her core and course through her body.

She remembered the brief kiss in his  _aravel,_  so long ago and the way it had felt _._ He smelled of wood smoke and leather. Impulsively, she bridged the small gap between them, capturing his lips. His grip tightened on her wrist and he pulled away. Blushing, she sucked her bottom lip between her teeth; Amalyr opened her eyes at his rich chuckle. He was looking, studying her with that look in his eyes.

Smiling that heart-melting smile. "Lyr, you are a remarkable woman." He took her hand, placing her palm on his chest. " _Emma vhenan_ , in the old tongue means 'my heart'"

She could feel the strength of his heart beating beneath her hand. Keeping her hand on his heart Amalyr was watching him in wide-eyed wonder. Reaching out, she tentatively traced the shell of his ear, and his jaw line.

Fenarel placed his hand over her wandering fingers, placing a kiss on the inside of her palm.

He trailed light kisses up her arm, along the silken line of her neck, capturing her mouth with his own. Lacing his fingers through her hair Fenarel's tongue sought entrance, deepening their kiss. "I've missed you Lyr." He whispered against her lips.

Caught unprepared for the on slot of emotions, she let out a low moan when he drew her ear into his mouth. Pulling the soft cotton undershirt from her waistband, his free hand explored her hills and valleys.

She gasped when his callused hand slid beneath her breast band, gently caressing her. Emboldened by his touch Amalyr began to explore Fenarel's body. Her dexterous fingers, making short work of buckles and lacing, quickly divesting him of his armor. Following the play of his muscles beneath her questing fingers, marveling at the smooth texture of his skin. Amalyr moved her hands along Fenarel's upper body as he hovered above, watching the play of emotion across his face. When she reached his waistline, she started biting her lip and blushing furiously.

Fenarel stopped her questing hand. "Lyr?" He smiled encouragingly. "You've never done, you've never been with anyone?"

She shook her head.

" _Emma vhenan,_ we can wait. We don't have to do this now."

Amalyr leaned up into him, biting playfully at his lip. "Don't you dare stop." She growled into his mouth.

Holding her tight he put his head on her shoulder. "This may hurt you."

"I want this," She spoke softly.

Her voice carrying the same hunger he felt. He was gentle but thorough, using everything he learned from his previous encounters to show her how beautiful, and fulfilling, joining could be. He took her to the edge and over, letting her ride the waves of ecstasy before he allowed himself to follow her into sweet bliss.

**-oOo-**

Amalyr woke warm, feeling sore, and very contented. She sniffed the air.  _I smell rabbit. Fenarel must have gone to catch dinner._  Amalyr stretched, arching her back, causing the cloak to slide from her shoulders, she snatched at it, and promptly blushed looking around, making sure she had not been seen.

She glanced up at her lover when she felt his warm hand slide between her shoulder blades as he sat down next to her.  _"Emma vhenan,_ there is no one else here but us." His eyes danced. "And I do not mind the view." Kissing her right below the ear. "Here, eat." Fenarel passed her a rabbit leg waiting for her to eat before he started in on his portion.

Done with dinner, he stood pulling her up into him stealing another long languid kiss. Before he tossed the cloak to the side, he scooped up Amalyr and carried her into the river shallows. "Now we bathe."

"When did you get these?" She traced the lines of the new tattoos on his face.

He grabbed her hand pressing her finger tips to his lips. "I earned these on the clan's outward journey to Gwaren."

Amalyr luxuriated in the feel of being pampered as she listened to Fenarel talk of the clan's yearly journey.

Fenarel led her from the water, assisting her with drying and getting dressed. He sat next to the fire patting the ground between his legs, grinning up at her. "Come sit, I won't bite." He ran his fingers through her hair, nipping at the nape of her neck. "Well not much." Reaching into his belt pouch he pulled out a lovely black silk ribbon. "I have something for you. I picked this up from a merchant just outside of Gwaren." When he finished plaiting her hair, he slipped his hand around her waist, holding her close.

 


	5. Ostagar

**Ostagar**

Amalyr looked around the room one more time, making sure she had everything she and Carver may need _. Potions, poultices, poisons, a couple of snares, my daggers, bow and a change of clothes. I think that's everything._

"You're not going to need all that. I'm sure we can pick up any additional supplies we may need from the quarter-master when we arrive." Carver looked dubiously at his sister as he fingered the contents of her pack.

"Potions and poultices of this quality would be very expensive and will probably be hoarded for those of a higher status than us. I also don't know if they'll have the reagents I need to craft more." Amalyr eyed her brother. "No, I'm not leaving any of this behind with Bethany; I'm not taking any chances with our hides." Amalyr threw her pack over her shoulder and headed out the door.

"Lyr, you or Carver are bound to need my skills, are you sure you won't take me with you?" Bethany followed, her voice full of hope.

"No! Absolutely not! It's bad enough Amalyr is going; I'll not have you in danger as well."

Amalyr glared at her brother. "Carver, that's not helping."

Carver glared right back. "Fine then you talk some since into her, and maybe yourself while you're at it. I told you I would be fine. Stay here play with your friends, or whatever it is that you do with them."

"That's not an option and you know it. I lost Father. I will not lose you too, not while I can do something about it. Besides even if you tried to leave without me I would just follow you anyway."

Amalyr then turned to address her sister's question. "That's just it Bethy, the circle of magi will be at Ostagar, and that means Templars, lots of Templars. Look, even if you promised not to use your gift, you know it would be a temptation. Any-time, every time we went into the Wilds, or on any wounded you came across. That means you would most assuredly come under the scrutiny of the Templars stationed there. That's just not a situation I'm willing to risk." She gave her sister a quick hug. "Besides we both know mother's having enough kittens with both Carver and I going, someone sane needs to stay here and make sure she stays safe."

Bethany sighed. "I guess you're right, though I can't say as I like the idea."

Suddenly, a genuine smile lit Amalyr's face when she caught site of a lone Dalish hunter waiting just outside of Lothering. "Fenarel!"

Kissing her behind the ear in greeting. "I would not let you go into battle without seeing you off." He smiled down at the small woman who had captured his heart.  _She's really going to do this. Go off and battle those creatures. I do not want her to go._  His expression turning serious, Fenarel pulled Amalyr into his embrace. "Lyr _? Emma vhenan,_  do not go, stay here." Leaning in he captured her mouth in a searing kiss, a kiss full of desperation and need. "With me."

Breathless, Amalyr looked up into the worried eyes of her lover, tears threatening her own. "If I could talk Carver out of going, I would in a heartbeat. I don't know what will happen out there and I would never forgive myself if something happened to him that I could have prevented. I have to go. I don't want to fail him the same way I failed father." Brushing his lips lightly against hers, he nodded his understanding.

"Come back to me,  _Emma vhenan."_  Reluctantly he released her, stepping up to Carver, his intense gaze still holding Amalyr's. "Keep her safe." Fenarel turned his gaze to Carver. "Bring her home."

 _As if I had a say in the matter. Headstrong stubborn woman._ Carver held his tongue and nodded to the elf before he and his sister headed for Ostagar and the wilds.

**-oOo-**

_Poor thing._ Amalyr closed the kennel gate behind her, moving slowly so as not to alarm the sick Mabari. The kennel master handed her the muzzle over the gate. "I will do what I can for him. No promises." Turning back to the enclosure she studied the animal. He was black as night and had the most intelligent eyes she'd seen in any other creature since the halla.

Amalyr removed her daggers placing them by the gate, and then settling down in the center of the enclosure, whispering, "I mean you no harm." She held out her hands, palm up, allowing the dog to come forward of his own volition. He sniffed her fingers, looked up at her, rubbed his face against her hand, and wined. Scratching lightly behind his ears with one hand. "I will need to place this on you." She showed the dog the muzzle.

The Mabari crawled on his belly laying his big head in her lap with a loud woof. Amalyr quickly placed the muzzle on the dog, ruffled his ears and left the enclosure.

"Ah thank you, Hawke. I was afraid I would have to put him down if I could not help him."

"No problem, are you sure there isn't anything else I can do for him?"

An incensed Carver cut in before kennel master could answer. "Andraste's flaming knickers, are you mad?! Amalyr that Mabari could have taken your arm off!"

"I'm fine Carver. The poor beast's been infected by darkspawn and the kennel master needed someone who could calm the creature enough to place a muzzle on him."

"That she did, and I'm grateful for her assistance." The kennel master looked between the siblings and the dog. "As for something else you can do for him. Your with the scouts right?"

Carver nodded eyes narrowed in suspicion.  _Someone always seems to want something from us._

"Will you be heading back out into the Wilds soon?" Carver nodded again choosing to stay silent.

"Well, you see, there is this herb that only grows near the water out there. Its flower is white with a red center. If you would be kind enough to get me one, I could brew up a potion that may be able to heal what is wrong with the boy. Although with his bond mate dead it may be better to just help him go."

Amalyr cut in, "What do you mean help him go? Kill him? Can't you help him find another bond mate?"

The kennel master rubbed the back of his neck. "It's rare that a Mabari can be imprinted more than once, but it's not unheard of either."

"Wait, are you saying its possible he can bond with someone else. Could he bond with me?" Carver was clearly exited by the idea of having his own Mabari.

"It's possible. Tell you what, get me that flower and we can try to bond him to you Ser?" The kennel master raised a brow.

"Not Ser, just Carver. And consider it done, we'll find that herb." Carver placed an arm around his sister's shoulder guiding her back to camp. "Amalyr, I could just kiss you."

"Please don't." She scrunched her face and jabbed him in the ribs.

"Come on, grab your gear, the commander wants to see us." He instructed his sister in a lighter mood.

Amalyr rolled her eyes. "Why didn't you say so earlier."

"I would have if you had not gotten us side tracked." Carver grinned at her again. "Although you seem to have the unholiest luck I've ever seen."

"Do you know what Commander Walduk wants with us?"

"I would imagine that it would be some last minute changes to our orders."

**-oOo-**

Blonde shaggy hair, brown eyes and built like a bull; Commander Walduk is an imposing figure of a soldier. Pacing back and forth, striking a pair of well used leather gloves repeatedly in his hand as he addressed his scouts.

"You are to scout out the advancing tide of darkspawn, likely ambush sites, pit falls, and ideas for traps and trap placement to decimate the oncoming horde. The King has also sent a request that you keep an eye out for the other scouting parties that may be in the area, and should you find Fergus Cousland you are to have him return post haste." Walduk motioned to Amalyr and her ever present shadow. "I expect you to follow her lead on this mission." Meeting Amalyr's eyes. "Hawke you will report all findings to me by the end of the night." The commander looked to his scouting party. "Dismissed."

**-oOo-**

Amalyr had made her report, with a list of locations for traps and pitfalls, sadly she and the scouts had failed to locate the Cousland heir, she then headed to the kennel master with the sought after flower. The kennel master had told her the potion would take some time to work and to come back with Carver after the battle tomorrow night.

 _It's been a very long day; all my commitments are taken care of._  Amalyr sighed and headed back to camp  _I'm so tired and we have an early rise tomorrow_.

Carver and a new friend were sitting outside of her tent when she arrived. "Amalyr come, celebrate! Have a drink with me and, and?" Her brother was slurring his words clearly drunk off his gourd. "Oh, where are my manners? Lyr, thish is ish?" Carver snapped his fingers. "Davesh,Daveth? He's, he's…a new recruit right? Davesh, thish ish my sister Amalyr."

Daveth with a chuckle and overly dramatic courtly bow kissed the back of Amalyr's hand. "Charmed. I'm one of the Grey Warden recruits, I guess after tonight Grey Warden in fact. Carver you did not tell me that your sister was this ravishing beauty."

Amalyr rolled her eyes and Carver snorted tossing her his flask filled with whatever was passing as spirits around camp. Daveth started his tale on meeting the witch of the wilds and being threatened with being thrown in the pot or possible frog time. The entire party roared with laughter over the senior warden's, 'Swooping is bad, and sneaky witch thief, line.' "You should have seen the look on that Cousland girl, I wasn't sure if she wanted to hit him or what, but it looked like she was biting her tongue she was."

During his tail Daveth had been slowly scooting closer bit by bit. "So any last wishes I can help fulfill before we head into battle? Life is fleeting you know." Daveth leaned in close running the back of his fingers along Amalyr's cheek. "It would be a shame, that pretty face could be decorating some darkspawn's spear this time tomorrow." Smiling roguishly. "If you would care to join me I might show you a thing or two?"

Amalyr wasn't buying it. She caught site of Carver starting to bluster, she gave him a quick negating gesture. Carver snickered behind his hand and leaned back to watch.

Eyes wide she placed a finger on his bottom lip lightly trailing her nail down his chin stopping at the neck to his studded armor. "Would you protect me ser Warden?" She leaned over to breath in his ear.

"That I would." His eyes lighting with his good fortune. Daveth stood pulling Amalyr up after him. Feigning a greater inebriation then she felt, Amalyr stumbled into the rogue allowing him to bring her into his embrace. Eyes partly hooded she looked into his eyes and whispered a breath away from his lips. "Do you know what I think?"

He leaned in trying unsuccessfully to capture her mouth with his own. "No, what?" He was having difficulty forming a single coherent thought.

"I think." Letting her breath ghost over his neck. "I think..you..need.." she ran the tip of her nose along the shell of his ear before breathing into it. "To.. find.. another.. pretty face." Amalyr tapped him on the nose "To try that line on." Then she disappeared into her tent leaving a very flushed Daveth staring after her.

Carver, roared with laughter. "Daveth, my friend, you don't want to go chasing after her, trust me."

"And why not?" he queried puzzled, "I like a good challenge."

Carver gave his new friend a companionable slap on the back. "Your just not her type." He tapped Daveth's ear. " Your ears are not pointed enough."

"A warning would have been nice." Clearing his throat, Daveth reached for the spirits. "Ahhh well. Too bad." Looking at the closed tent flap and downing what was left. "Well I best get back." With that Daveth left muttering about red headed temptresses.

 


	6. Flight Part One

**Flight**

**Part One**

Dodging Genlock and Hurlock alike,  _they just keep coming._ Amalyr sighed in relief when she spotted commander Walduk. _If anyone would know what is going on, he would._ She could hear the commander swearing a blue streak as she drew near.

Walduk viciously took off the head of the nearest darkspawn spinning to disembowel the next, leaving his back exposed, "Commander look out!" She shouted ducking beneath his swinging blade to take out the darkspawn behind him.

The commander finished dispatching another genlock; turning to Amalyr he nodded appreciatively, "Thanks, Hawke."

Catching her breath Amalyr saluted fist over her heart. "Commander, what happened? Where is the rest of the army? Where's Carver?"

Stabbing a finger toward the tower of Ishal, a glowing beacon of betrayal. "The Teyrn quit the field. Hero of _fucking_  River Dane my ass! The coward has left us to die!" Scowling he looked around at the swarming masses of darkspawn.

Blanching,  _I have to find Carver;_  she grabbed hold of his arm. "Commander where's my brother?"

Eying her with regret. "Sorry Hawke, he's most likely dead. I sent him with a message for the King when the tower beacon had been lit. Before all of Ostagar was sucked into the Void. Go home to the rest of your family. I know I intend to, I'm sick of death. I just want to see my wife and son safe."

Shaking her head fiercely, she darted off to search.

"Don't throw your life away!" The commander bellowed after her.

_I'm not leaving without him!_

* * *

Heart racing, Amalyr scanned the battlefield below and saw Carver, who was very much alive.  _Thank the Maker, now all I have to do is get to him._ She was a blur of steel leaving a wake of dead behind her.  _Is there no end to these creatures?_ She desperately fought to reach her brothers side shouting over the din, "Carver!"

Not taking his attention from the Emissary in front of him, he shouted back, "Fight first, talk later." Suiting actions to words, Carver let loose a battle cry and charged his opponent, Amalyr falling into an easy rhythm with her brother.

* * *

As tends to happen even in battle the siblings found themselves in a temporary calm area atop of what had once been a grassy knoll. Amalyr cleaned the gunk off her blades then grinning from ear-to-ear at seeing Carver alive and whole, she punched him playfully in the shoulder. "Do I always have to save your, backside?"

Offended he pointed at the dead around them. "Hey, I counted fifteen dead at my hands, and another five after you got here. I'd wager I'll have more darkspawn kills by the end of the night then you."

She smirked up at her brother. "Done, we can tally our kills after we fight our way out of Ostagar. Loser does the others chores for two weeks."

"Wait what? No we are not leaving, we can still win this!" Carvers temper starting to boil.

Walking off a short distance she gestured to the teaming masses of darkspawn. "Carver use your head and look around you. How do you" Startled, Amalyr took up defensive stance as the ground began to quake.

Events seemed to slow to a crawl as Carver watched his sister turn toward the charging ogre, his face draining of color.  _Maker's blood I'm not close enough._

**-oOo-**

A golden blur crashed into Amalyr knocking the wind from her as they tumbled out of the ogre's path. Rolling to a stop, her eyes went wide as she took in the blue eyes, blonde hair, and golden armor of the man on top of her.  _Oh my, he is big, almost as big as Carver._ Some idle portion of her mind registered.

Staring down at her, a boyish grin lit the blonde man's face. "I've always wanted to rescue a beautiful damsel. I guess this is my day." Standing he helped Amalyr to her feet where he placed a quick kiss on her cheek. "Ah see and there's my reward." He turned his attention back to the ogre who was preparing for another charge, he lost his grin as he drew his broadsword and advanced on the ogre shouting over his shoulder. "Get to safety." Keeping its attention focused on him, he dodged the creatures clumsy attacks easily wounding it.

Amalyr's movements caught his attention as she drew her bow to assist. "Makers sake!" catching site of her brother "Will you get her out of here!" The distraction proved fatal as the ogre grabbed hold of the King shaking him like a rag doll as it crushed the life from him and tossing him aside, forgotten.

 _He saved me and died,_ tears in her eyes, _he died because of me._  Amalyr shook her head stubbornly, while sizing up the creature.  _I am not running, it's incredibly slow and its big enough it wont be able to change direction quickly once it starts charging. I can take that thing._ "You are done killing!" Preparing to enter the fray, Amalyr threw a miasmic flask at the ogre's feet stunning the creature.

"You heard the man, your getting out of here if I have to drape you over my shoulder and carry you." Carver pulled his sister after him as one of the Grey Wardens charged the ogre, quickly taking the creature down. After a fleeting glance at the fallen King Amalyr followed her brother without comment.

**-oOo-**

_They have been gone for a while now._ Bewildered, Amalyr looked around the empty Dalish camp.  _They should be here; it's the wrong time of year for them to have moved on. "_ Fenarel where are you, where did you and your clan go?" She closed her eyes,  _seeing the worry in his pale blue eyes as he bade her to come back to him._

Carver kicked at the cold ashes grumbling under his breath. "I knew it was a mistake coming here. We should have gone to Lothering first, your friends can take care of themselves without help from you."

Standing where Fenarel's  _aravel_ would have been, Amalyr turned her back to her brother and spoke in a hushed tone, "It would have taken time we don't have to backtrack here." Her posture revealing the frustration and worry she felt. "Carver, the Sabre were on the way, I had to warn them, just like at home they are in the horde's path."

Relenting, he placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Sister, I know that elf meant a lot to you, but he's gone now, they all are. Mother and Bethany are what's important now, we need to get home and see if we can't set up some sort of defense before trouble arrives." Giving her a quick squeeze. "No more delay's OK?"

She nodded,  _He's right, I don't know where else to look, and there is no indication where they could have gone. We must get back; our home will not be safe much longer._ Amalyr scanned the area once more, taking the lead she headed toward Lothering and home.

**-oOo-**

Carver burst through the door, and threw his pack in the corner before scooping Bethany into a tight embrace. "Phew Carver couldn't you have bathed first?" She wrinkled her nose at him.

Amalyr snickered as she entered. "I think we both need a wash. Where's Mother?"

Smiling Bethany rushed to embrace her twin. "She's gone to the market and should be back soon. Oh she'll be so relieved and happy you're back, we were both so worried about the two of you."  _Maker I need to stop babbling._  "Would you like me to go get her?"

Carver chuckled. "No Bethy, I think we can wash while we wait. I wouldn't want to offend mother's delicate nose with our rank stench."

"Come on Lyr let's get you cleaned up and out of that armor before mother gets home." She laced her arm through her sisters guiding her to the back. "Carver when were done I'll bring you some fresh water so you can do the same."

Smiling, Carver waved her on.  _It's so good to be home._

Bethany helped her sister out of her armor wrinkling her nose at the blood, muck and whatever else was covering most of it.  _It must have been really bad if she didn't even bother to stop and clean her gear._  Passing the wash cloth and soap to her sister, hoping to elicit some information on why they had both come home looking and smelling like they had been dragged through the nether bowels of the Black city, she launched into the questions she had been itching to ask . "What was it like? Were there any ruggedly handsome men? Did we win, is that why your home? Tell me everything," she asked, playfully.

Amalyr's smile fled and her hands faltered, Carver called from the living area interjecting before she could reply. "Bethy a lot has happened we need to wait until Mother arrives before we go into anything. As far as I know, we are the first to make it back from Ostagar and there are some decisions that will need to be made."

Bethany took a closer look at the dark circles under her sister's eyes, the grime in her hair and under her nails. "Here let me." She smiled. "It's the least I can do while we wait for mother." She took the cloth from her sister and began to carefully wash the dried blood and dirt from her.

**-oOo-**

By the time Leandra returned, Carver and Amalyr had managed to get themselves clean and make a small snack. Once finished with the teary-eyed welcomes they launched into what had happened in Ostagar, the betrayal of Teyrn Loghain, the death of the King and Wardens, and the consequent rout.

Carver laid out his plan for rallying what forces remained behind to defend Lothering.

Bethany interrupted "Carver, every able bodied fighter went to Ostagar with the Bann. There is no one else. Well there are a couple of Templars left, they might help if you told them what's going on."

Amalyr who had been leaning against the doorframe spoke up, "No, absolutely not. The Templars cannot be trusted. As soon as you used your magic, for any reason, they would take you away. We would be lucky if you were only locked-up in that forsaken tower." Frowning, she looked at Carver daring him to argue with what she was about to suggest, "We must leave Lothering."

Carver closed the distance separating them, shouting in indignation, "No, we are not leaving! There are enough people here we can protect Lothering; they just need a little direction."

Amalyr waited for him to finish then spoke calmly, her gaze unwavering. "Men too old to fight, young children, women who wouldn't know the pointy end of a dagger from its pommel, and a handful of Templars are all that's left in the village. That is not enough to fight off what we faced in Ostagar. If it were just you and I, we could stay and face them, but it's not. I will not risk losing anyone to those things, not mother, not Bethany," jabbing him in the chest, "and not you. We must leave and soon, that horde wasn't far behind us."

Bethany and Leandra watched as the two stared each other down in a battle of wills. Carver broke eye contact first, looking at Bethany then their mother.  _She's right, I hate that she's right._ "Fine! We must leave Lothering, you warn the Revered Mother and anyone else you think might listen, then you, Mother, and Bethany pack what you can carry."

Wailing, Leandra looked to her children, "So we lose it all, everything your father and I built, all gone and for what?"

Amalyr quickly embraced her speaking softly, "I'm sorry mother, at least we will be alive and we can rebuild what we will lose here."

Carver yanked the door open. "It's decided, we leave in one hour."

"Wait!" Bethany cried, "Hold on, do we even know where are we going? We can't just leave can we?" Her gaze shifted from Carver to Amalyr and back.

Carver snapped at her, "Well  _our_  sister has made it quite plain we can't stay here."

Bethany bristled. "We can't wonder aimlessly."

Forestalling another argument, Leandra spoke up, "We can go to Kirkwall."

Amalyr's jaw dropped in surprise. "Kirkwall? Why would we want to go to Kirkwall?"

"There are a  _lot_  of Templars in Kirkwall mother," Bethany nervously reminded her.

Liking the idea of returning to her childhood home, Leandra smiled reassuringly to her daughter. "I know that, but we have family in Kirkwall, your uncle Gamlen lives in the Amell estate, we can go to him."

Decision made, Carver nodded outlining their next step. "Then we will head through the Brecilian Passage toward Gwaren avoiding the bulk of the horde and book passage from there."

 


	7. Flight Part Two

**Flight**

**Part 2**

Amalyr glanced worriedly back at her mother, Leandra's lips were set in a grim line as she trudged along determined to keep up. Making a snap decision, she walked back to her mother and Bethany, taking each by the arm. "We will rest here for the night." Her low voice echoing off the high walls as the two women sunk gratefully to the rocky ground.

Glowering at Amalyr, "What do you think you are doing?" Carver tried to reach past her in an attempt to get Bethany to her feet. "We don't have time to rest, we have to keep moving I want to get out of this pass and into Gwaren, as quickly as possible."

Irritably she gestured to Leandra who was resting her back against the rock face, breathing heavily while Bethany wiped sweat away from her brow. "They cannot keep up with the pace you set, and if we go much longer we'll be carrying mother."

Taking Carver by the elbow she led him away from the others.  _Things are bad enough as it is, mother doesn't need to hear us bicker to._ "Look we haven't seen any darkspawn nor have I seen any tracks that would indicate those creatures have been this way; we can setup a cold camp and set watch if that would set your mind at ease."

Carver took in his mother's wearied state then Bethany's,"  _Maker I've been so focused on getting us to safety ,_ he shook off her hand and pushed roughly past Amalyr, shamed at having his failure pointed out. Carver tossed his pack to the side.  _I hadn't thought what this would be doing to mother._ "Fine, you setup camp. I'm going to scout the area."

Frustrated she resisted the impulse to go chasing after Carver to sooth his wounded pride, so Amalyr held her tongue and watched her brother angrily stride away.

Coming up beside her Bethany placed a comforting hand on her sister's shoulder. "He's impossible when he's like this, just give him time," she grinned at her sister, "or you know, you could just tell him to go soak his head, either way he'll come around. Come on Lyr I'll help you setup."

Taking quick stock on what they had managed to bring with them. Amalyr shook her head in disbelief,  _Mother! We're on the run barely ahead of mindless beasts and all you pack is clothes and nick knacks?At least the cloaks will be useful._ She reached for Bethany's pack and began rummaging through its contents,  _Good, potions, herbs, and food that wont rot while we travel, best not to let Carver see mother's pack he'll have a cat._ She watched as Bethany had laid out both bedrolls, she used the clothing and the cloaks their mother had brought and fashioned two additional makeshift beds.  _It's a good thing Carver and I had not completed unpacking on our return. I still have my traps, time to setup some surprises for the unwanted nasties out there._ Amalyr chuckled to herself as she removed the traps from her pack.

**-oOo-**

By the time Carver returned camp had been set; traps had been set, Leandra was already in an exhausted slumber and both girls were quietly munching on cold hard journey bread and the smoked meat he had picked up from Dane's Refuge. "Hurry up and grab some of this before she eats it all." Bethany playfully bumped shoulders with her sister and grinned when Amalyr hastily tried to swallow her food.

"That's it, he can have your portion." Amalyr just managed to croak out between coughs.

A sweet innocent smile spread on Bethany's face. "Of course dear sister, I would gladly share my food with our brother while you stuff your face."

The scowl that appeared on Amalyr's face would have done their father proud. "Bethy! I would never take food from our brother's mouth, I might lose a finger."

"Oh no? What of mother's honey cakes?" The wicked grin from Bethany and the inadvertent chuckle from Carver's direction ruined the intended effect.

 _Carver's cheeks bulged, crumbs littering his lap and table unnoticed as he tried to cram another honey cake into his mouth without finishing the first._  Amalyr doubled over grabbing her sides at the memory of her brother inhaling cake after cake.

"Okay, okay. Maybe the whole hand!" She waved at them between fits of laughter. "Just not mother's honey cakes. I have no intention on seeing Carver impersonate another damn squirrel." Amalyr tried shushing them between fits, as the others joined in but that just made the laughter harder to control as they snickered and wheezed trying to keep from waking their mother.

"Oh dear sweet Maker we needed that." Amalyr wiped away the tears then held out the food she had set aside. "Here, we did save you something edible." She wrinkled her nose at it. "Although I'm sure neither of us want to know what good old Barlin used."

"He was the only person in town to have meat, and no I don't want to know what he used." Carver shrugged and quickly devoured what he had been given, before pulling the dice from his pouch."Two out of three, the winner gets first watch, are you both game?" He smiled challengingly at his sisters.

"Your on." They coursed.

"I won? I never win, Lyr I won! I really won!" Bethany squealed in delight after several intense rounds of dice.

"If you ladies will excuse me, I will take my leave and get some sleep." Feeling smug Carver headed for the nearest bedroll.

Amalyr shook her head ruefully.  _I would lose at a game of dice to Carver of all people._ "Alright dear sister, rub it in, first watch is yours. Wake me when the moon reaches. Oh, right about," she scanned the sky then pointed a quarter mark from its currant position. "there; or sooner should you need me."

She reached for Bethany's hand, "here take this." She wrapped her sister's fingers around a combustion grenade. " If anything gets close, throw this, wake me and Carver, then stay back with mother. None of us thought to bring any lyrium dust with us and I didn't have time before we left to craft any lyrium potions for you so...I want you to hold your magic in reserve; should we really need your skills as a healer." She held her sister's gaze until Bethany nodded, then went seeking her own bed and the Fade.

**-oOo-**

"Lyr, Lyr wake up something's out there." Amalyr bolted out of sleep, rolling into a defensive crouch, blades ready at her sister's frightened whisper. When no immediate threat appeared she turned her attention to Bethany still clutching the grenade to her chest as her eyes darted wildly about looking for whatever was lurking in the darkness.

Sheathing her daggers Amalyr rubbed her eyes in vexation, then fired off a series of questions. "Did you get a good look at it? Where is it? What did it look like? How many did you see? And for Makers sake why didn't you throw that thing? " She gestured at the grenade.

"I...I...I didn't see anything, there is...was this terrible hissing and growling. It was getting closer then...then...there was this howl that just made my hair stand on end...then some sort of screech and I don't know." Bethany wailed feeling out of her depth.

She swallowed down the irritation she felt at being woken up with no danger in sight.  _She's never had to face anything more dangerous then the town bully, its no wonder she's frightened._

Amalyr patted her sister on the shoulder, "Bethy, it's okay; you did the right thing. Go, wake Carver have him stand watch, tell him I've gone to take a look at what's out there."

Panicked Bethany reached out to restrain her sister. "You're not really going out there are you?"

"I'll be fine Bethy, nothing will be able to see me if I don't want it to." She smiled reassuringly; squeezing her sister's hand then vanished into the darkness.

Following Amalyr's instructions Bethany scuttled over to wake a loudly snoring Carver.

**-oOo-**

Amalyr scanned the camp. Her mother was still wrapped in her cloak, Bethany was slumped against one of the passage walls snoring lightly, still clutching the grenade. Carver was propped up with his back to their mother and sister his hands wrapped around the hilt, blade dug into the dirt and chin resting on the pommel of his broadsword, clearly visible from where she was crouched in the shadows.  _I've been gone a little over an hour and he's sleeping? He's supposed to be standing watch over the other two and keeping them safe, not traveling the Fade._

Scratching behind the dog's ears. "What do you think, should we wake him?" She whispered, nodding toward her brother.

Intelligent eyes watched Carver for a moment, snorted and butted her in the chest with his big head, then more like one of those big cats she heard about than a mabari, the midnight black dog quietly made his way to her brother. He circled him twice before lunging at him.

Carver woke to a nightmare, as monstrous black blur barreled into him knocking him flat on his back. His blade had gone flying, panicking he shoved the creature away, heart pounding in his chest he scrambled madly for his sword. Casting a quick glance over his shoulder he caught site of massive jaws and sharp white slavering teeth, just before the creature barreled into him again pinning him face down, arm out-stretched blade mockingly just out of reach. His eyes winced closed expecting the worst.

"Ah, ah, ugh! That's disgusting!" Carver cried as a very wet slobbering tongue made its way across the side of his face. Followed by a snort and what sounded suspiciously like laughter, as the great weight lifted from his back and padded quietly over to lay at his sister's feet.

Glaring at his sister. Carver gathered what was left of his battered dignity, fetched his sword and returned it to his scabbard. "Ha! Ha! Very funny!" He stomped over to where his infuriating sister was standing with that smirk. "What kind of sick joke was that?"

While he shouted into her face, Amalyr stood with her arms crossed and calmly looked into her brother's eyes. "You. Were. On. Watch. You are supposed to be looking out for mother and Bethany. Instead you were sleeping, knowing that I had gone to check on the disturbance that had frightened our sister. What if it had been something else? What if it had gone for Bethany or mother first? Maker forbid if we should run into anything dangerous. Bethy should be able to hold her own, but mother is not cut out for this,she could get hurt or worse if we are not careful." She gestured to the dog at her feet. "At least it was just him going bump in the night." She tilted her head to the side an amused glint in her eye. "What do you think Commander Walduk would have done if he caught you sleeping on watch?"

Carver groaned. "Worse, much worse." Holding his hands out in defeat. "Your right, I'm wrong, I'm sorry, satisfied? Happy?"

"No, but it's a start." Playfully she punched Carver in the shoulder. "Come on since everyone is awake now we need to break camp and go. Quickly." Suiting action to words she started for her pack.

"It's the middle of the bloody night, we can leave at first light." He glowered at his sister. Not quite ready to forgive her.

Amalyr gestured over her shoulder back the way they had come. "Darkspawn were within hearing distance of camp." The dog snorted, she rolled her eyes in amusement.

Interest peeked, Carver studied the dog following at his sister's heels.  _He is impressive._ The dog's broad-shoulders reached his sister's waist. "Is that the same mabari we helped at Ostagar? The one we were going to try to imprint on me?"

"I...Yes...Yes. I think it is. I found him facing down five of those genlocks; he had taken down two of the filthy things before I could help. He's quite the war dog." The dog in question nudged Amalyr. Startled she looked at the large mabari as a big doggy grin spread across his face, tongue lolling to the side. He nudged her again until her hand rested on his big fuzzy head. She chuckled and scratched behind his ears, his choice clearly made.

Sighing in defeat.  _The dog would choose her._ "Fine. You can keep him. It looks like he likes you better anyway." Carver's glare melted into a rueful grin. "Just remember he's your responsibility, you get to take care of him and if he makes a mess, you get to clean up after him."  _That's a lot of dog to take care of, and I've cleaned out enough of those kennels to last a life time._

"Oh, my, but he is gorgeous, Lyr." Bethany ruffled the dog's ears.

Carver snorted in disgust. "Don't you dare start with the baby talk. It's a mabari, a war dog, not some pampered lap dog."

Bethany shot him a playful scowl then began cooing at the dog until Carver stalked over to help their mother. "So what are you going to name him?"

Amalyr watched the mabari as he snuffled her sister's hair. "I don't know. I wasn't expecting to have a pet, definitely not a full grown war dog."

"Oh come on Lyr. He's got to have a name. We can't run around calling him 'hey you' or just plain 'dog' can we?" Bethany was trying very hard not to giggle at the playful creatures antics.

"I think we should call him Rufus!" Carver piped in.

Bethany scrunched her face at his suggestion. "Rufus?"

"Yes. Rufus." Carver pretended to duck an imaginary blow from the growling mabari. "What? Rufus is a good dog type name."

"Uh-huh, no way am I calling any animal Rufus. Besides he looks much to intelligent to be saddled with something like that." Amalyr studied the war dog. "He's quick, I've never heard anything move with such silence and look at that coat: black as night, he can just disappear when you aren't watching. He's death on four legs."

"So?" Bethany, Carver coursed.

Amalyr smirked at her family. "So? So what?"

"So what are you going to name him?" Leandra finally chimed in, her face alive with curiosity.

Amalyr crooked her finger at the dog calling him close then whispered in his ear. When he started wagging his stump of a tail she finally stood. "Mother, brother, sister, I'd like to introduce you to Knight-Blade the newest addition to our happy little family." Knight-Blade barked happily and spun in a circle chasing his non-existent tail before coming to heel.

**-oOo-**

Bethany whispered under her breath. "Well doesn't the Maker have a since of humor."

Catching her sister's unease, Amalyr studied the couple they had just help save. The woman had orange hair, blue eyes and strong features.  _She looks like she could wipe the floor with half the soldiers at Ostagar._ She turned her attention to the man with her. He had black hair, pail blue eyes, and square features. His right arm had been wounded and he clutched it close to his chest. They both had well fitted armor and other then being covered in gore it was well maintained. She had close-fitting leather armor; his was full plate. Amalyr's eyes came to rest on the familiar sword of mercy etched in loving detail on the chest plate.

"Templar." She hissed taking up a defensive position between her sister and the new possible threat.  _Great, we've spent the last few days in one skirmish after another, just barely managing to keep one step ahead of the darkspawn and now this? Did we just step out of the frying pan and into the fire?_

"Apostate." The templar pointed his sword at Bethany. Whether in threat or to keep her at bay she couldn't tell.

"Wesley." The woman spoke up.

Wesley sword point was beginning to waiver. "Keep...Keep your distance.."

Still trying to diffuse the situation the woman tried again. " Wesley, please."

"A Mage's mind, their thoughts are always unknown, you can't know what one will do." Ignoring the rest of the group his sole attention on Bethany. "The order..."

Amalyr walked up to the templar daggers drawn nose to nose with him. "Stay away from my sister." she growled. Taking his cue from his mistress, Knight-Blade started to growl just as threateningly.

Wesley flinched at the small woman facing him, the threat evident in her green eyes, clearing his throat he tried again. "My duty is clear. The order... The order dictates..."

The orange-haired woman placed herself between her templar and Amalyr. She cupped his face bringing his attention to her. "Wesley, please. They saved us. The Maker understands."

"Of course." He nodded, letting her take charge.

The woman turned her attention back to the others. "I'm Aveline Vallen, this is my husband Ser Wesley. We can hate each other later when we are safe from the hoard. Until then I would suggest we work together." She folded her arms across her chest.

"Another blade between us and the darkspawn. Yes, please." Carver piped up desperate to avoid a battle with the templar and his wife.

Amalyr studied Wesley and Aveline carefully before sheathing her blades. "Very well, we'll travel with you. There is safety in numbers." She turned her attention to the warrior woman's husband. "Ser Wesley I expect you to stay away from my sister. If you smite her or harm her in any way I will send you to the Maker in small bits." She tilted her head to the side waiting for a reply.

Wesley nodded. "Understood."

Not wanting to startle the Templar unnecessarily Bethany cleared her throat and spoke hesitantly. "Ser Wesley?" He watched the girl waiting for her to speak her mind. "How bad is it?" She nodded to his arm.

He watched her for a moment then looked to Amalyr before answering. "It's my shield arm."

Bethany rolled her eyes,  _I can see that_. "If you would let me I could tend that for you?"

Amalyr's voice was tightly controlled. "Bethy is an accomplished healer."

Bethany was beginning to feel like a bug in a box with the way the templar was studying her, before he replied. "That would be appreciated. Thank you." Amalyr passed her sister bottles from her pack choosing to sit nearby and watch as her sister worked.

After carefully examining Wesley's arm she spoke. "Your shoulder has been dislocated and you have a torn tendon. I can tend to this if you will let me."

Aveline who had been soothingly running her fingers through her husband's hair finally asked. "Your a mage, and a skillful one at that according to your sister. Couldn't you use your magic to heal this?"

Bethany nodded thoughtfully. "Yes, I could heal this and quickly. Mana can take awhile to regenerate and we have no lyrium to replace what I use. We have a few days yet before we can reach Gwaren and since the injuries sustained to his arm though painful are not life threatening." She considered Aveline for a moment. "Father once told me templars need the stuff. Do you have any on you?"

Aveline looked at her husband. "No, Wesley took his last dose this morning. We were hoping to pickup lyrium at the Chantry in Gwaren."

Bethany placed a comforting hand on the woman's arm. "I'm truly sorry Aveline, I will need to conserve what mana I have for when it is truly needed."

Wesley grimaced. "Do it then."

Bethany removed a pair of leather gloves from her pack, handing them to Wesley. "When I pull I want you to bite on these." She placed her knee on his chest, holding his arm by his wrist and waited. Biting into the leather, Wesley nodded. With a quick pull and twist Bethany popped his shoulder loudly back into place. "The injury kit I'm using will help with the swelling." She handed him a small bottle. "Drink this it will help the tendon nit properly, it's a weak health potion so it will be a few days before you will be able to hold a shield again." Bethany stated as she finished the make shift sling.

"Then you shall have mine, I will be your shield." Aveline spoke up.

**-oOo-**

In the bowls of the ship, Bethany was curled up with her head in her sister's lap and her mother was sleeping somewhere nearby, Aveline was lost in her own thoughts. Amalyr stared up through the latticework, watching the night sky pass overhead.  _We made it to Gwaren, we even booked passage, that Captain took every last copper we had and we will reach Kirkwall soon, but at what cost?_ Lost to her memories, Amalyr's silent tears falling as the events replayed themselves over and over, wondering what she could have done differently. If she could have changed something, could have made things right, but no matter how much she thought about it, it always boiled down to one thing. She failed and again, someone else paid the price.

_Having not seen any darkspawn in the past two days the party had begun to let its guard down. Bethany and Leandra were deep in conversation with Aveline. Amalyr was laughing at Knight-Blade as he chased a random butterfly with the playfulness of a puppy. Carver was speaking with Ser Wesley; he had told Amalyr earlier that he wanted some of the Templar's secrets. He believed it would be an asset against the darkspawn if he could convince the older man to part with some of his training. No one had noticed the Ogre until it was almost upon them._

_Everything had happened so fast, the first anyone had known of danger, Carver had pulled his broadsword and with a mighty roar. "You soulless bastard, you shall not have them." He charged the beast. The Ogre had Carver in its grip before anyone could move, and, in the blink of an eye, the foul creature smashed her brother to the ground, not once but three times, each accompanied by a sickening crunch. With the final crushing blow, Carver's blade fell from his lifeless fingers. The creature's rheumy eyes spotted her mother and Bethany who stood away from the group, it let out an earsplitting roar as it prepared to charge the two women._

_She needed to protect her family, Amalyr flew into motion. She sped toward the creature, as the Ogre reached for her she slid between his legs severing its hamstring, as it toppled forward she clambered up onto its back sinking her blades into its neck, not wanting to wait for the creature to bleed out, Amalyr chose to end its life quickly._

_Leandra raced to her son's side crying, Bethany and Amalyr joined her. She wanted Bethany to heal his lifeless battered body. Bethany had shaken her head and began crying helplessly into Amalyr's shoulder._

_She had tried to sooth her mother with the only thing that would come to mind. "I'm sorry mother, he died to save us."_

_Leandra lashed out. "I don't want hero. I don't want a dead son. You, this is your fault, how could you let him charge off like that. why couldn't you be faster, why couldn't you save him. Why did he have to die. My son, my baby boy."_

_Amalyr had closed her eyes at the pain her mothers words invoked._

_Ser Wesley solemnly spoke. "Mistress Hawke, I would be honored if you would allow me to commend your son's soul to the Maker." Those gathered round bowed their heads as Wesley began his prayers, his words lost, in their sorrow._

_When he finished Amalyr spoke huskily, suppressing her tears for a time when they were safe and she was free to grieve. "We need to keep moving, if we stay here long we risk joining Carver."_

_She had been helping her mother to her feet when Aveline cried out. "There coming, more of them, they're coming from everywhere."_

_Amalyr had scanned the area. Sure enough they were surrounded, darkspawn were pouring in from all over. Wesley had fallen no longer able to stand, Aveline rushed to his side. She pushed her mother behind her, glanced worriedly at her sister, and sent a wordless prayer to the Maker that she would see her family safely to Kirkwall._

_Then the dragon had swooped down out of no-where, and charred every darkspawn in sight. The creature landed and with a mighty roar sending a bolt of flame into the air. It was like something out of a tale her father told her as a little girl. If he had told her that one day a dragon would save her, she'd have laughed. She wasn't laughing now. Dragons don't save people, they eat people. She could take on darkspawn, even an ogre, but a dragon; no one could take down a dragon that size and live. But she would fight that thing with everything she had if it meant her family could get safely away._

_The dragon disappeared into a blinding flash of light. In its place an older woman, with amber eyes and cat-like grace, sauntered over to them, dropping the darkspawn corpse she carried. "Child put those things away, if I had wanted you dead. You would be."_

_Uncertain Amalyr ignored the woman's suggestion and asked instead. "Who, or what are you?"_

_She assessed the group before she spoke again in her gravely voice. "That is an Interesting question. But not one easily answered."_

" _I know what she is, she is the Witch of the Wilds." Aveline spoke from her husband's side._

_The old woman threw back her head with a hearty chuckle. "Yes, some call me that, the people call me Asha'bellanar, and still others call me Flemeth." Flemeth's yellow eyes snapped to Amalyr boring into her. "I suppose one is as good as another, it's your choice."_

_Bethany spoke up from behind her. "Can you help us? We're trying to get to..."_

_Flemeth waved her hand cutting off the rest of her question. "I was board, I looked down from my vantage point and what should I see, but this small slip of a thing taking down a mighty ogre. "But my curiosity has been sated." She turned her back to the party and started to walk away._

" _Wait." Bethany called out, "You can't just leave us here. Can you?"_

_Flemeth stopped. "Can I not? Perhaps, perhaps not." She spun around pinning everyone with a stare. She walked with purpose back to Amalyr, pulling a small amulet from around her neck. "A favor for a favor child. I will help you get to Gwaren, but you, you must do something for me in return." She held up a warning finger before Amalyr could speak. "Think carefully, child before you accept. Know this; you will be ever bound by what choices you make, even those you don't make."_

" _Wesley will never make it without help. I say we take the witch's offer."Aveline advised as she wiped the sweat from her husbands brow._

_Bethany nodded her agreement; her mother just stared off listlessly. Amalyr nodded and turned back to the witch. "If I agree to your terms. What will I be taking and where will it be going?"_

_Flemeth grinned. "I have a very important appointment that I must keep. This trinket." She held up the amulet. "Must make it to the Dalish living at the foot of Sundermount. Take it and give it to their Keeper. That is all I ask."_

_Amalyr's jaw dropped. "You want me to take that, thing to Sundermount," she gestured to the trinket in Flemeth's hand. "And you will take us to Gwaren. That's it? Wouldn't it be easier to just fly there?"_

_The old witch laughed clearly enjoying herself. "Ahh now where would the fun be in that, it would be much more fun to see what you do with your life. Now that you have it." She waggled her finger at Amalyr. "And I never said I would take you to Gwaren, I said I would help you get there. Quickly child do we have an agreement?"_

_Amalyr reluctantly agreed to Flemeth's term's. She was turning back to her family when the witch spoke again. "That one." the witch gestured toward Wesley, "has been corrupted by the darkspawn, their taint now courses through his body, he will not make the journey. I would suggest you decide what must be done. Will you be merciful or will you not, it's your choice._

_Amalyr looked to Wesley and Aveline. Black veins stood out against pallid flesh, his pail blue eyes clouded with a grayish substance. "Is there nothing we could do for him? Is there no cure for him?"_

_Flemeth shook her head regretfully. "He is too far along for me to help and the only cure I know of is for him to become a Grey Warden."_

" _They all died at Ostagar." Came Aveline's broken voice._

_With greater compassion then expected from the feared witch of the wilds, Flemeth spoke. "Not all died, sadly they are beyond our reach."_

_Wesley turned Aveline to look at him. "She's right I can feel the corruption in me. Please my love, end it quickly."_

" _I'm sorry Aveline I cannot make this decision for you." Amalyr placed a comforting hand on her shoulder then turned away to give the couple some privacy before Aveline gave her husband mercy._

The bellow and sudden bustle above announcing Kirkwall startled Amalyr out of her thoughts. She quickly pocketed the Amulet she had been given and went about waking the others.


	8. A New Home

**A New Home**

Amalyr rubbed her palms nervously on her trousers, taking a deep breath she stepped through the door of the Blooming Rose. She could feel the flush creep a long her skin as her gaze leaped from one scantily clad person to another, while trying to avoid staring overly long at anyone.

 _That guard said Uncle Gamlen spends most evenings here._ Trying to ignore the heavy petting in the darker corners, Amalyr made her way through the common room to the matronly woman bustling about. "Excuse me?"

The woman began writing in a large well-used ledger on the bar counter ignoring Amalyr. Clearing her throat Amalyr tried again. "Excuse me?"

"Go away, I'm busy." Came the woman's short replay as she continued making notations.

To no avail, Amalyr looked around the room again trying to find someone who would be a little more inclined to help. "Um.. Pardon me." Amalyr's frustration building as the quill continued its scratching along the vellum. Determined to get the woman's attention Amalyr tapped her on the shoulder. "Excuse me, I don't mean to interrupt b"

"For the love of..." She set the quill down, closing the ledger in vexation. "Yes you do. Fine what is it, I'm very busy so make it quick." She pointed to the door. "Or leave." She glared as her foot began to tap out her impatience.

Not wanting her resentment to show Amalyr tried modulating her tone to sound apologetic. "Are you in charge here?"

"No." She pointed over her shoulder to a colorfully garbed woman in the back chatting with a patron. "She is, I take care of the day to day needs."

"I'm looking..." Shifting uncomfortably beneath the woman's scrutiny Amalyr changed what she was going to say. "Uh...The guard at the docks said" before she could finish the woman was off her stool tilting Amalyr's chin this way and that.

"The guard sent you, did he?" lightly placing her finger tips on Amalyr's shoulder the woman slowly circled her clucking to herself as she studied the confused girl from all angles, as abruptly as it began it stopped. "You're one of the refugees that have been poring in to this city aren't you honey?" She nodded to herself. "The guard's not completely addled."

"Oh I like this one, can we keep her?" Amalyr jumped at the purr and unexpected caress from behind.

The matron continued as if nothing had happened. "Young, almost pretty, combined with that hair you will do well for some of our clients." Without pausing for breath the woman reached for her book and continued. "You start tonight. If the clients like you we'll keep you." The strawberry blonde elf pouted licked his lips and made his was up the stairs.

"No! Maker no!" Amalyr blushed and raked her fingers through her hair uncomfortably. "I mean, no. I'm not looking for work. I was told I could find Un...Uh...Gamlen here?"

"Him?" The woman's disgust was evident. "That no good drunken sot is at the end of the bar." She snorted then continued in friendly tone, at odds with her earlier demeanor. "Listen honey, let me give you some advice. Whatever you have going on with that sorry excuse. Leave him, you can do better and if you come to your senses come by and ask for me. I'm Vivica. We take care of our entertainers, put a roof over your head, good meals and a steady income. You wont find a better offer in all of Kirkwall." Vivica bustled off leaving Amalyr to gape after her.

She turned her attention to her uncle. _Other than the graying temples and sour expression, there is no ignoring the family resemblance._ "Gamlen? Gamlen Amell?"

Gamlen lifting his glare from the mug to study her said appreciatively. "Listen sweetheart, I don't have any coin, unless you are offering your services for free." He pulled her into his lap and squeezed.

In panic and disgust, Amalyr pushed violently away unseating her uncle in the process. "No, no way, I am never, ever, ever, ever, going to happen. Ugh...that's just...never!" She walked a short distance away shuddering at the feel of her uncle's arms around her.

Scowling Gamlen got up from the floor, his glare renewed. "Well then get lost. I've got nothing, so whatever your after you can go back to your boss, or who ever sent you, and tell them to find some one else."

Unhinged Amalyr shouted back at her uncle, "I don't want anything from you, if it wasn't for my mother, your sister I would..." Visibly restraining herself, Amalyr stormed out the door.  _I'll find something else, somewhere else, anywhere else but here._

Gamlen, wits slowed by drink, just realized what Amalyr had said and called to her, "Sister? What sister? The only sister I had left with that apostate ye..." Comprehension dawned. "Leandra? Leandra's here? Wait girl. Wait!" Gamlen chased after his niece.

Once outside, he reached for her only to find himself up against the brothel wall with a blade a hair's breath from his neck. "Don't touch me, don't ever touch me!" As quickly as the blade appeared it vanished, she stepped back the anger in her eyes daring him to try again.

Gamlen rubbed his neck staying against the wall lest she change her mind about that dagger. Swallowing he asked. "Leandra? Is she okay?"

"Mother is just fine. She's waiting at the docks for me to return." He visibly relaxed when she folded her arms across her chest. "I came to find you, Mother said you would be able to help."

Her uncle's glare returned. "Leandra left years ago, she has no right to ask for help now. Let her apostate take care of her."

The look in his niece's eyes scared him more than the dagger had. "Father's dead, he has been for sometime ."

He shifted uncomfortably "I didn't know, tell her I'm... Oh what's the use. I'm sorry girl. Tell Leandra I miss her, but I can't help. The estate is gone and any coin I had is dried up. I can barely manage to take care of myself let alone anyone else. Let me know when your settled somewhere and I'll come find you." Gamlen grimaced and quickly beat a hasty retreat.

Amalyr wandered for sometime.  _Now what are we going to do, Mother was counting on Gamlen to help, and without it there is no way into Kirkwall. I suppose we can look in the out lying provinces._  Amalyr was deep in thought as she watched her family from the portcullis. Leaning against the wall she rested her head on its cold surface, turning she slid down the wall, forearms resting on her knees as she she stared up at the gray drab buildings of the city.  _No, I can't do that to mother or Bethany; there has to be another way in._

"It looks like you may need my help." A light haired elven woman clothed in a lattice work of straps and a brace of wicked looking throwing knives appeared from the darkened ally way across from where Amalyr had been sitting moments before. "As luck would have it, I need help; maybe we can help each other out and both get what we want?"

Amalyr eyed the woman warily. "I'm listening."

**-oOo-**

Amalyr jogged across the Gallows courtyard to where the others rested. "Mother, Bethany."

Aveline stepped into her path bringing Amalyr to a halt. "Where have you been? It's been three days."

Amalyr brushed by the tall woman. "Getting us into Kirkwall, where else?" She helped her mother to her feet as she spoke, "We have way into the city and a place to stay, no thanks to our dear uncle." She looked over her shoulder a speculative look in her eyes. "Aveline, your staying with us, at least until you can find a place of your own." Amalyr grinned at the shocked expression that blossomed on the other woman's face.

"I...uh...thank you." Aveline stuttered, a tentative smile slowly spreading across her features.

"After everything that has happened we are friends of a sort, aren't we? Think nothing of it. Oh, you may want to check with the city guard, I hear they are hiring."

Bethany hugged her sister but the hurt was her in her voice. "Lyr, you could have sent word. We were worried when you didn't return, and mother was in a panic this morning. I had to use that sleep spell Keeper Marethari taught me to keep her from storming the gates looking for you."

She winked a Bethany. "We'll talk later, after we've gotten mother settled.

"Come mother, I've found us a place." Amalyr grabbed Leandra's pack. "It isn't far from here."

The smile that graced Leandra brought forth answering grins from her daughters. "It will be so good to see Gamlen, I haven't seen him in years and there is so much to catch up on." Amalyr's own smile faltered as she followed her mother who began talking, animatedly, about her youth in Kirkwall, from her betrothal to Guillaume de Launcet to her father sneaking out of the Gallows to pay court to her.

 _I've missed seeing her like this, its had been so long since the last time I've seen her smile._ Amalyr watched her mother travel down memory lane.  _I wish Carver had been able to see this. He would not have liked Kirkwall but he would have done anything to see her safe and happy._

Her smile faded further and her shoulders slumped at the thought.  _First, father, and now you, I'm so sorry Carver. It was my fault you faced that Ogre alone. I should have been paying more attention..._ a snort and accompanying head butt from Knight-Blade interrupted her musings just as Leandra headed down a side street. "Mother, we should be getting on home, I'm not sure what the streets will hold for us once its gotten dark."

Leandra pointed in the direction she had been headed. "The Amell estate is that way." Amalyr shook her head, and Leandra frowned. "It may have been before you were born when last I was here, but Kirkwall has not changed so much that I can not remember the way."

Amalyr suppressed the urge to roll her eyes and answered the question her mother's puzzled expression invoked. "We will not be staying with Gamlen, and he's now lives in a more humble location. I can take you to see him once we are settled." Without further conversation Amalyr lead the small group through a small market place, with various vendors hawking their wares, down a series of narrow streets and stairs until they reached the small home.

Bethany wrinkled her nose in distaste. "Lyr, are you sure this is a good idea? Wouldn't it have been better if we could stay closer to where uncle Gamlen lives? It smells like old cabbage left in the sun." Grinning at her sister's reaction Amalyr lead the way inside.

"Gamlen?" Leandra rushed around the side of the building passing her daughters. Embracing her brother, she began crying into his shoulder.

Embarrassed Gamlen patted his sister awkwardly. "Leandra its...good to see you. I haven't seen you since you ran off with that...Why didn't you tell me you were coming?" He cleared his throat catching sight of his nieces. "Well...um."

"Oh. Gamlen so much has happened. I had wanted..."

Waving away the rest of the sentence Gamlen lead his sister and nieces to the small home. "Will you be staying here?" He snorted as he stepped through the door. He grimaced at Aveline and the girls. "Its small but its a place to sleep. Come Leandra lets get you settled then we can talk."

A false smiled graced Amalyr's lips. "I will see you later tonight, mother. I have a commitment I must keep." She nodded curtly to her uncle. "Gamlen."

"What? Wait, where are you going? We just arrived you shouldn't be going out this late. I'm sure what ever it is it can wait until morning." Leandra's scolding falling on an empty doorway.

Bethany followed as her sister as she slipped out the door. "Lyr?"

"Bethy." Bethany jumped startled as her sister's voice came out of the darkness. "Go back inside with mother. I'll be back shortly."

"Maker Lyr, you shouldn't sneak up on a person like that, I could have wet myself." Taking a deep breath she continued, "Where are you going?"

"Lets just say I have something I have to take care of. Relax, go back inside I will be back soon." Amalyr smiled disarmingly.

"Oh no Lyr, you disappeared for days and when we are finally allowed into Kirkwall you go haring off again. Not this time. I am going with you." Bethany crossed her arms over her chest, jutting her chin out stubbornly. _I'll be damned if she leaves me behind again._

Amalyr grimaced over the memory of her confrontation with Gamlen. "Gamlen was unable to get us into Kirkwall. It would appear that our dear old uncle has managed to squander all of our grandparent's wealth and lost Mother's ancestral home. I had to find another way in. I'm going to meet her so we can hammer out the rest of the details and finalize our arrangement."

Bethany still stood with her arms crossed, clearly not leaving.

"Fine." Came Amalyr's short reply as she headed off at a brisk pace.

Bethany fell in behind her. "Where are we going?"

Her sister pointed to a gross caricature of an armored man, stung upside down from a post. "The Hanged Man."

When Amalyr opened the door to the dim lit tavern, Bethany coughed as the smell of stale urine and vomit assailed her.

Amalyr pointed to a table in the corner, which had a clear view of the rest of the bar. "I'll get us something to drink while we wait for Athenral." Without further comment, Amalyr made her way to the bar.


End file.
